


Empire of Dirt

by MyBlackWings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action, Angst, Anxiety, Break Up, Canon-Typical Violence, Cheating, Death, Drama & Romance, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, F/M, Past Rape/Non-con, References to Depression, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2019-10-18 10:10:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 60
Words: 301,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17578904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyBlackWings/pseuds/MyBlackWings
Summary: This is a Sequel to my story Still Breathing. Dean went to Hell. And then a certain Angel gripped him tight and raised him from Perdition. Things quickly go from bad to worse. Relationships are strained, broken, mended along the way. This is a rewrite of Seasons 4-5. Rated M for Language, violence, sex, non-con, dub-con, descriptions of past rape, torture, etc.





	1. Chapter 1

Empire of Dirt

Ch 1

The moment Dean died on that random floor in New Haven, Indiana was also the moment his eternal sentence in Hell started. He opened his eyes from the searing pain and found himself somewhere that no sane mind could ever imagine. The pain had just started to work its way into his brain and already was more than he thought he could bear. Metal chains encircled his middle and legs, giant hooks pierced his shoulders and thighs, holding him stretched out and suspended on a giant spiderweb of misery. He screamed for his brother, his father, for River, for anyone to help him, to save him. The sky, if you could call it that, was a sickly black and purple, with shifting clouds of ash, lightening flashed and occasionally struck the chains that suspended the damned.

And this, this was just the welcome wagon to hell. It gave the new arrivals a few days to reflect on their definition of pain; to allow any hope they may have for salvation to burn out before they were taken to some new area for eternal torture. But not Dean Winchester, he stayed on that web of pain for months, focusing on the faces of his loved ones and the happy memories he could still recall through the pain.

Until one day it was his turn to be pried off the chains and put on the rack; there he learned what real pain was. The things that took their turns with him had no names, no faces, no describable features at all. The only thing memorable was the way they tore, and stabbed and bit and took from him. Took things Dean never thought he could loose, the first time they slit open his chest and pulled his ribs out he thought he’d gone insane. But when he woke up he was whole again. 

Time passes funny in hell, minutes drawn out to hours and days, days to weeks then months and soon a decade has passed. Then two decades of pain and terror with the same faceless torturers. Then one day, a white eyed demon with a long face and pointed nose appeared before Dean. This demon promised Dean would never forget him, his name was Alastair and he told the former hunter they would soon become close friends. Alastair was an artist of pain ,the last twenty years had been a walk in the park compared to the pain he could elicit from Dean. The cries of agony that Alastair pulled from Dean echoed through Hell. Each day as their games started, Alastair made Dean an offer. Dean could get off the rack if he became the torturer; turning the tables and inflicting pain on other souls. Alastair was a wonderful teacher and saw a pupil with true potential in Dean Winchester. Dean refused for another fifteen years. Then Alastair brought Dean a present. “Look, look what I’ve brought you my special pet,” Alastair’s nasally voice echoed off the stone walls of his favorite torture chamber. 

Dean groggily opened his swollen eyes, “Is it pie? I love pie.”

“Oh no, no, no, no,” the demons laugh came out as high pitched sighs, “Took me a while but…” Alastair stood in front of Dean and held out a covered platter. Thick red drops rolled off the edges of the platter as the white eyed demon set in front of Dean. “Open it, see what I have brought you.”

Dean shook his head, “No, I’m good. Why don’t we just get right to the anal rape? It’s been a couple days since we played that game…” The cockiness was the last part of Dean’s old attitude to die and it was about to be snuffed out.

“I said OPEN IT!” Alastair grabbed the back of Deans head and pressed it towards the covered platter. Dean raised a shaking hand and grabbed the lid off the platter. Laying on the silver tray beneath were two fetuses about eight months old, boys, laying side by side as they would have in the womb. “Thought you’d like a family reunion.” Alastair laughed as Dean screamed.

Time is funny in hell, minutes drag on into days, days to weeks, weeks to months and months to years. Dean Winchester had built himself quite a reputation; Alastair’s prime pupil was rumored to soon surpass his mentor as Hell’s top inquisitor. Dean spent his allotted time in the chamber, soul after soul being brought before him to experience his craft. Dean hardly spoke anymore except to Alastair and then it was “Yes, sir” or “No, sir” but he listened to everything. He heard whispers of some sort of battle, demons being sent to some far corner of Hell never to be seen again. They were legion and the legion was under siege. The whispers meant nothing, there was no escape, no salvation, his soul damned for eternity and eternity was a very long time.

The days passed, Dean would spend hours in the chamber torturing souls as Alastair directed and nights he got to spend in solitude in his private quarters. The barren, stone walled cell was the only place he got a few hours respite. He spent the quiet hours sitting on his thin cot, eyes closed in concentration as he tried to focus on his brothers laugh or River’s terrible singing. He was pulled out of his meditation by screams, not that screams were unheard of in Hell but they never echoed this far down. The screaming came from right outside his door, the shrieks died as quickly as they started. A bright blue light shone around Dean’s cell door, a color so bright and vibrant he hadn’t seen in decades. He blinked several times trying to clear the hallucination but the color remained. A comforting warmth emanating from the light and almost reaching his cold skin. His cell door flew off it hinges and clattered to the ground with a dull thud. Dean stood, then fell to knees in awe as a being made entirely of the beautiful blue light stepped into his cell. Before He closed his eyes against the radiance he swore he saw huge black wings fold tightly around the creature. The being held a shining, silver dagger and swept into the room. “Please,” Dean murmured, wishing to feel the dagger pierce him and end his suffering once and for all.

“Stand up, Dean Winchester,” the deep, gravelly voice commanded. Dean stood on unsteady legs, legs that had been broken, torn, ripped from his body innumerable times only to reappear so the pain could continue; averting his emerald green eyes, eyes that had been plucked from their sockets and then shoved back in, against the brilliant light. Screeches echoed from the hall outside Dean’s cell. The being grasped Dean, pulling Dean’s bruised and battered back close to it’s firm chest, one strong arm holding him, a warmth spreading through Dean’s body where the creatures hand held firmly onto his shoulder. The other hand held the dagger out, ready to kill any attacking demons and it yelled to the heavens, “Dean Winchester is saved!”

Dean awoke a few moments later. Wherever he now was it was dark, pitch black and the walls were suffocatingly close. He raised his hands and tentatively touched the walls around him, his calloused yet sensitive finger felt wood, firm but yielding with enough pressure. He reached down to his pockets ( he had pockets?) and found a cold metal lump. He pulled the metal out and used muscle memory to flick the cap back and ran his thumb around the spark wheel. The flint caught and a bright orange flame erupted from the end of his lucky lighter. Panic flared for a moment as his brain registered where he was. He was in a wooden coffin, which meant he should probably cut the flame and focus his strength on breaking the wooden boards and digging his way out of six feet of dirt. Thankfully John Winchester had made his boys practice for such an event when they each turned 14.

Dean pulled his sweaty, tired body out of the hole in the ground less than an hour later. He flopped onto the dirt, relishing in the feel of the sun, the sound of birds and wind and the smell of the earth around him. He opened his eyes and looked around, part of him still sure this was some elaborate new torture and saw the forrest around him. “What the…” he muttered. Trees lay shattered and burned out in a ring, as if some great bomb had gone off and his grave was the detonation point. Dean walked away from the devastation and headed west, knowing eventually he would end up somewhere useful.

And eventually he did. Dean walked carefully up to a gas station, the pumps empty and a “Sorry we missed you” sign hanging in the window. He wrapped his trusty flannel shirt around his fist, punched through the glass panes on the door and reached up to turn the lock. He hit the cooler first, gulping down two bottles of cold water. Tears of joy leaking from his eyes as he savored each sip. His thirst satiated for now, he glanced around the store and noticed a newspaper stand. He picked up the paper on top and checked the date, “September? Jesus, I’ve been gone four months.” He muttered to himself. 

He turned from the newspaper stand and saw a phone sitting on the counter. He picked the phone off the cradle and laughed when he heard the dial tone. Phone numbers jumbled through his brain, Sam? Bobby? Ellen?. He decided to call Bobby; knowing the man almost always answered, unless he was drunk or on the toilet. 

“ ‘ello?” Bobby’s voice drawled on the other line. Dean took a deep breath, the sound of Bobby’s voice more beautiful than a Led Zeppelin song right now.

“Bo-Bobby? It’s me.” He stuttered into the phone.

“Who is this!”

“It’s Dean, Bobby. It’s me, please.”

“Fuck you, ya idjit!” Bobby hollered into the phone. Dean stared at the phone, he’d only heard Bobby swear a handful of times. Before he could dial another number a high pitched siren wailed, the small TV on the counter flicked to life blaring white noise and static. The tenor of the wailing increased causing the fillings in Dean’s teeth to ache, he held his hands over his ear desperate to drown out the sound. The glass windows cracked, then shattered, Dean ducking behind the cashier counter as the glass exploded. The noise stopped but the ringing in his ears remained for several minutes. “What the hell?” he thought to himself. He ran his hands through his hair and looked out the now broken window, noticing for the first time a small car sitting in the dirt lot next to the gas station. Dean grabbed an armload of water bottles and candy bars and walked to the car. He quickly hot wired the car and headed towards Sioux Falls, South Dakota.


	2. Chapter 2

Ch 2

“Who’s there?” Bobby’s gruff voice called as he unlocked the deadbolts to his front door. He swung the door open and Dean’s smiling, exhausted face was waiting for him.

“Hi, Bobby,” Dean calmly said. Bobby stumbled back away from the door as Dean walked inside.

“How? What?” Bobby stuttered as his hand grasped the silver knife he had hiding on his desk.

“I dunno, Bobby. I’m so glad to see you,” Dean said. Bobby swung the knife at Dean in a deadly arc, “God damn it, Bobby. Knock it off!” Dean countered the older man’s attack, grabbing the knife out of his hand.

“Shifter trash!” Bobby yelled throwing a punch.

“I ain't a shifter,” Dean yelled back ducking the fist that came swinging at his head.

“Then you’re a revenant!” 

“If I was a shifter or a revenant could I do this with a silver knife?” Dean pulled his shirt up, exposing his bicep, he took a deep breath and slid the sharp knife across his skin. 

“Dean?” Bobby said, he stepped forward and grabbed his adopted son in a tight hug, “Boy its so god damn good to see you! How’d you bust out?” He let go of Dean and turned back towards his desk.

“No idea Bobby-“ his answer was cut short as Bobby splashed holy water in his face, “I’m not a demon either,” he said annoyed, spitting out a mouthful of water.

Bobby smiled, chagrined “Had to check…” Bobby relaxed and hugged Dean again, “How’d you get outta the pit, son?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders and glanced around the room, empty bottles of whiskey lay on every surface along with piles of trash and open books. “I dunno but look at this,” Dean pulled the sleeve up on his shoulder and showed Bobby the raised, angry looking handprint seared into his flesh.

“What the hell kinda thing leaves something like that?” Bobby muttered.

“I was hoping you would know. Demon maybe, probably?”

“You don’t remember nothin’ ?” Bobby asked again.

“I remember Lilith…she killed my b-“ Dean cleared his throat, the sudden surge of emotion threatening to overwhelm him, “She killed River and then I was a hellhound chew toy. And then I woke up in a pine box. ”

“Dean, River a’int dead son. Don’t know how she ain’t, she says she doesn’t know either,” Bobby told him, grabbing onto his arm.

“Where the hell is she, Bobby?” Dean asked, “Oh, hell you think she woulda made a deal? Or Sam?”

“Balls…I dunno son, her and Sam they’ve been real secretive. Sam’s been MIA pretty much since we buried you and River,I just don’t know son,” Bobby shook his head, “She’s renting a room in town only been here once after she got back to grab some of her things.”

“Came back from where? The hospital?” Dean asked.

Bobby motioned Dean to follow him and they sat in front of his dated computer, “Took me a while but I was able to hack into the hospitals security footage…After you ya know, Sam checked River and she was still alive. Barely. Got the ambulance there in a hurry and gave’em some B.S story she was hit by a car. Me and Sam, we had to bury you. I wanted to burn you but Sam said you’d need your body when you got back… and by the time I got to the hospital she was gone.”

“Gone where, Bobby?” 

“I dunno son, watch.” Bobby started the footage for Dean and they both watched the video play. A surgical suite appeared before them, a group of 10 or so people draped in blue scrubs and surgical masks rushed into the frame, pushing a naked, bleeding body on a gurney. River lay unmoving on the table as a breathing tube was shoved down her throat and she was prepped for surgery. Dean watched as the doctors hurriedly opened her abdomen in a desperate attempt to stop her hemorrhaging. One of the nurses stepped back from the table holding her hands over her face as she saw River’s mangled insides and the surgeons removing lumps of bloody tissue. Dean closed his eyes and shook his head; Bobby put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. Something changed in the room, the doctors waving frantically as more blue clothed people swarmed and started CPR and shocked River trying to restart her heart. The light above the surgical table shattered, sending sparks across the room. “What the hell?” Dean murmured.

“Oh just wait, it gets better,” Bobby commented.

The figures on the computer screen stumbled and fell, grasping their heads and ears as the lights and glass around them exploded. A brilliant orange light flared on the screen and the hunters watched as the eyes of those dumb enough to keep them open were burned out of their heads. The light grew brighter and Dean moved his face within inches of the screen, watching intently as what appeared to be a figure appeared in the light. The shape was vaguely human and Dean swore he saw two sets of giant wings wrap around River’s unmoving form. Then they were gone, no flash, no static, no break in the film, just gone.

“What the hell?” Dean repeated looking at Bobby with wide eyes.

“All in all, five dead. Eyes fried outta their heads and River was gone, vanished,” Bobby said shaking his head, “She showed up on my doorstep four weeks later. Right as rain, said she didn’t know how or why. Put her through the same rigamaroo as you. She stayed long enough to pack up her stuff, said she’d stay close by and wanted to start huntin’ again.”

“I gotta go see her, where is she?”

“Called me this morning, she was headed home from a case she was working in Wyoming,” Bobby grabbed his cellphone out of his back pocket, “Lemme see if she’s home yet.”

He punched in River’s number and listened as the phone rang. “Hey, Papa Bear. What’s up?” Rivers tired voice echoed over the phone.

“Nothin’ sweetheart, just wanted to make sure you made it home ok,” Bobby waved Dean away, he had been creeping closer to the phone, “ You wanna come over for dinner, got some things I’d like to talk about.”

They heard a door shut on the other line and River sighed loudly, “I’d love to Bobby, but I’m only home for a shower and to grab some ammo. I gotta be in NOLA by midnight tomorrow which means I have to not get arrested for felony speeding.”

“What the hell you got goin’ in New Orleans?” Bobby asked.

“Nothing you need to worry about, it’s just a meeting,” the heard more rustling as River shifted around on her end of the phone. 

“What type of meeting? You planning on making a trip to a crossroads?” 

“Yeah because we both know how well that went the first time I tried a crossroads demon…black eyed bitch laughed at me…look if I tell you , you can’t freak out ok?” River said.

“Does this have anything to do with the Trickster? I know you two have been thick as thieves the last couple of months,” Bobby said shooting a glance at Dean.

“What, Loki? No, he’s not even talking to me since I summoned Hel last month…shit I shouldn’t ‘ve told you that, I gotta go Bobby.”

“Now, wait a god damn minute, you summoned Hel, the goddess of death?”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered clenching his fists.

“Look, it was a big waste of time. She couldn’t or wouldn’t help me. Bitch just took her offerings and threatened to eat me if I summoned her again,” River sighed.

“What’d you have to giver her?” Bobby asked, worried.

“A bull and the weapon of a warrior so I gave her Suki’s katana, it belonged to her great-great grandfather…she ate the bull, horns and hooves and balls and fucking everything and then she said she couldn’t help Dean and Gab—“ River coughed, “Loki got fucking pissed at me and he now he won’t talk to me either.”

“Balls, girl what were you thinkin’ summoning something like that?”

“I was thinking that Dean is in Hell, Bobby, and I’m out of ideas and Sam won’t talk to me and I got no where else to turn…so I really need to go. I’ve got ghoul bits in my hair and I need to hit the road.”

“What are you plannin’ on doin’ in New Orleans?”

The men heard River take a few breaths, “You remember that Voodoo priestess,Ursula I told you about?” Bobby grunted an affirmative. “Well her and her sisters liked my sob story-“

“You ain’t got a sob story, girl.” Bobby interjected.

River laughed humorlessly, “I got the best sob story Papa Bear. My unborn sons were ripped apart in my womb and the man I was stupid enough to fall in love with was dragged to hell by a white eyed demon bitch and I’m left here to live under an umbrella of fucking never ending grief and depression and fuck everything… Ursula is summoning Baron Samedi and Maman Brigitte and they’ve invited me to plead my case to bust Dean outta Hell.”

“God damn it, River! You ain’t goin’ alone,” Bobby told her.

“Oh yeah old man? Fine be at my place in an hour, you still got my spare key? ‘Cause I’m gonna be taking a hot ass shower for a while.”

“Yep, you got anymore of those Enchilados?” 

“Enchiladas Bobby and yeah I got some in the freezer. Get your ass over here and I’ll feed you before we hit the road.” River hung up the call.

“Baron Samedi! What the hell is she thinking?” Dean yelled, “Give me her key, I’m gonna go kick her ass.” Bobby pulled out the keyring River had given him (Drink coffee, Hail Satan) and directions to River’s apartment.

“Look, son. Maybe we should go together, you might not want to surprise her, she’s…it’s been a rough four months Dean.” 

River sighed again and put the frozen enchiladas in the old oven to warm up, put some Garth Brooks to play on her IPod for Bobby and finally climbed into a searing hot shower to wash off the ghoul that still clung to her.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

River climbed out of the shower about thirty minutes later when the hot water was gone. She wiped the fog off the small bathroom mirror and looked at her reflection. She adjusted the small gold necklace around her neck and inspected the dark bags under eyes, pale skin about three shades lighter than her normal, and “Shit is that a grey hair; I’m not even 30 yet come on”, she muttered disgustedly. She turned her attention to the bite on her shoulder; the ghoul had jumped on her from behind and tried to make a warm meal out of her. River hissed through her teeth as she slathered on antibiotic ointment and a clean dressing. Satisfied with her patch job she dropped her towel and walked into her small bedroom. Music drifted from the kitchen and she froze, tilting her head and listened as she recognized the lyrics to Zeppelins ‘Ramble on’.

“The fuck?” she muttered, her heart skipped in her chest and she hurriedly grabbed a pair of leggings and a shirt. Bobby hated Led Zeppelin and basically every other band that wasn’t country, thats why she had put on Garth Brooks before she jumped in the shower. Hands shaking she grabbed her gun from the top of her dresser and silently walked down the short hallway to her kitchen. “You picked the wrong fucking apartment asshole,” she flicked the safety off the gun and pointed it at the back of the intruder in her kitchen. 

The man standing in the small kitchen groaned contentedly and turned to face her, “Babe, these are amazing. I didn’t know you could cook.” Deans cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk as he shoveled another forkful of enchilada into his mouth. 

River drew a deep breath and took another step into the kitchen, “What the hell are you and how did you get in here?” 

Dean swallowed his food and set the plate down on the small table, “Bobby gave me your key,” he held up the keyring, “Drink coffee, hail Satan?” He took a step towards her with his hands outstretched. 

“I thought it was funny,” she replied, “What’d you do to Bobby? How’d you get past the devils trap and the salt?” 

“I didn’t do anything to that cranky old bastard. It’s me-“

“ Then you’re a god damn shifter and you are not Dean because Dean’s in hell and there isn’t any fucking way out because I’ve tried… Take another step you soulless piece of shit and this hand cannons gonna take your head off.”

“Is that my gun?” Dean asked glancing at the gun River had pointed at him.

“This, no this was Dean’s gun now it’s mine and the kickback is a bitch. The flask next to the coffeepot pick it up and drink whats inside now!” she flicked the gun and Dean picked up the flask.

“Silver?” he asked opening the flask and taking a long swallow, “Holy water, thanks for not throwing it in my face.” He set the flask down and stepped back towards the shorter red head that still held a gun on him. Dean gently grabbed the gun out of her shaking hands and she took a step back bumping into the wall behind her.

“There’s no way out…I tried Dean,” she murmured raising trembling hands to touch his face, “I let her send you to hell and she killed our sons anyways.” 

He pressed his forehead against hers and smelled her damp hair, “It’s not your fault, none of it. We both know we never had a chance. They never had a chance, Riv.” 

She buried her face in his neck and cried tears she’d kept bottled up for four months, “I wanted them, I wanted a life.” They stood together in her small kitchen for several minutes, Dean rubbing her back in small circles before River stepped back and wiped her wet face. Dean looked down at her and she smiled nervously running her hands through her damp hair.

“I’m a mess.” She mumbled. He pressed her back against the wall and ran his lips gently over hers before he grabbed her hair and tilted her head to deepen the kiss. She moaned tangling her tongue with his and grasped at his shirt.

“Bed?” Dean grunted when he broke the kiss. River took a deep breath, slightly dizzy.

“Down…down the hall,” she squeaked as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. He walked back down the short hallway until he reached her room and tossed her on the bed where she landed with a small laugh. Dean pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it on the floor and River took a deep breath, “Oh my…” She stood back up and looked at his naked torso, running her fingers over the perfect skin and tight muscles. “You’re…perfect. All your scars…what the hell is this?” she placed her hand over the mark on Dean’s shoulder.

“I don’t know. Had it when I climbed outta my grave.” he told her.

“I never went to your grave. Didn’t see the point,” she replied, “Between me and Sam we were gonna find someway…”

“I don’t want to talk about that right now,” He grabbed the hem of her thin shirt and pulled it over her head, “Well, look at you. Seems like you had an upgrade too.” Dean sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. The scars that once covered Rivers abdomen and hip were gone, soft, unmarked porcelain skin were all the remained. He rans his hands over the smooth skin and up to each breast. 

She took an unsteady breath and closed her eyes when he tweaked her nipples , “When I woke up the cigarette burns and the other scar were gone. What ever put my insides back together did a nice job patching up the outside too.” Dean made a low humming sound as River pulled at the buttons on his jeans and started pushing them down. He kicked his pants off and pushed her back onto the bed, pulled her leggings off in one smooth movement and threw them over his shoulder. He groaned looking down at her naked and shivering, “Quit staring at me. You make me nervous.”

He laughed and leaned over her, kissing and biting her neck as she writhed under him. An image of a beaten and bloody woman strapped to a table flashed before Dean’s eyes and he faltered for a moment. His body went rigid and he closed his eyes and shook his head. “Dean, are you ok?” Rivers worried voice brought him back, she had her hands cupped around his face, “What’s wrong?” His green eyes were glossy and far away but he focused on her blue ones.

“I need…I need you,” he murmured into her hair, rubbing his erection along her wet folds.

River bucked her hips up encouraging him, “I need you, too, please. I’m ok.” Part of Dean wanted to take his time with her, remember how she felt and tasted. The other part wanted to fuck her into the mattress and make her scream. That part won and he thrust into her in one quick motion. River cried out as he stretched her almost painfully, nails digging into his shoulders and back as Dean kept up his pace. All she could do was hold on and take what he had to give as he moaned filthy words into her ear. The pain quickly turned to mind numbing pleasure as her body responded to his touch. “Oh, fuck fuck fuck,” she moaned, her breaths becoming erratic as she felt the coil inside her lower belly tightening. 

Dean knew the familiar fluttering in her pussy, “Come on, sweetheart make some noise.” He hooked one forearm under River’s knee and moved his free hand to her clit never slowing down the snapping of his hips. More moans and obscene words fell from her lips as the coil snapped and Dean drove her over the edge of her climax. She threw her head back into the mattress and cried out as Dean continued fucking her senseless. “So fucking hot,” he murmured leaning down to grasp her lips with his own. His hips stuttered and he groaned into her mouth his own climax crashing through him. Their breaths were ragged, River ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his face and neck, running her fingers over the smooth muscles of his back.

“I love you,” she whispered into his ear. Dean weakly nodded his head against her neck and he rolled over onto his back, dragging River with him so she was half laying on top of him. 

“Shit, I didn’t wear a condom,” Dean sat up on his elbows suddenly looking down at River. She sat up also and was fixing the charm on her necklace.

“It’s alright hot stuff I can’t get pregnant. I got my tubes tied in Mexico last month. Told Bobby I was tracking a Chupacabra,” she blushed.

“What’s with the necklace? It’s kind of tacky,” Dean said changing the subject. River smiled and fingered the brightly colored lollipop charm.

“I like it. Found it an a pawnshop when I was looking for a cursed tea kettle,” she told him turning back over and kissing his jaw. 

Dean stretched and put his hands behind his head, “Guess we should head back to Bobby’s and try and find Sammy.” 

River grumbled, “Yeah about Sammy. He changed all his damn numbers, won’t answer my emails and has himself warded against tracking spells. Kind of seems like he doesn’t want to be found.” She walked over to her dresser and searched for clean clothes watching Dean’s reflection as he got dressed. River grabbed her duffle bag of gear and the food she had promised Bobby and they headed back to the Singer salvage yard.


	4. Chapter 4

4\. 

“So, what do you remember?” River asked as Dean sped back towards Bobby’s. She fiddled restlessly with her necklace and shifted in her seat. They rode in a older Buick that smelled distinctly like feet and made an odd clicking noise whenever Dean pressed to hard on the accelerator.

“I remember Lilith, I remember getting gnawed on by a demon dog and then…nothing,” Dean glanced at her and then back to the road, “Until I woke up in the box and had to dig my way out.” 

She took a deep breath and blew it out through pursed lips, “I’m glad, I can’t even-I don’t want to imagine. It’s like you get a reset, a do over.” Dean nodded, remembering again the vision of the woman tied to the table, crying in fear and agony as he stood over her. Some wicked tool grasped in his hand as he calmly considered which part of her bruised body to assault next.

“How ‘bout you? Bobby showed me the security footage, Riv. You should be dead. What the hell happened?”

“Yeah… I don’t know. I uh- I remember Lilith, her offer and then the pain,” River’s hand ghosted over her abdomen as she stared out the window, “I felt everything afterwards, I just couldn’t talk or see. I felt the bumps in the ambulance, when they put the needles in my arm and the tube down my throat.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “Then they cut me open and I screamed but they couldn’t hear me.” Dean reached his hand over and grabbed hers. “Then I don’t know what happened. I felt like I was floating and then there was a voice that told me to wake up…I was in a field surrounded by sunflowers and Joshua Trees…”

“Joshua trees?” Dean asked.

“You ever seen any before? Maybe in the desert on the way to Vegas? Great big spindly ugly trees. I love them, they’re my favorite so are sunflowers. And there was…don’t laugh because this is all probably some dream my oxygen deprived brain came up with,” Dean looked at her and motioned for her to continue as they were pulling into the Singer Salvage yard, “There were platypus, platypuses? Platipy? What ever the hell the multiple of platypus is those things were all over the place too.”

Dean laughed, “You’re serious?”

“I know. The voice came back and sounded really proud of itself and said ‘I made all these things, aren’t they great?’ ” River smiled crookedly, “There was this orange light, but not like orange orange more like the orange you get at sunset it was beautiful and then everything was gone and I was in an abandoned building in Manitoba…I didn’t tell Bobby any of that, he worries too much about me as it is.”

“Manitoba, huh? How’d you get back home?” Dean asked as they climbed out of the car.

“I just kind of wandered around for a few days and then I called Loki, he zapped us to Idaho for a while and then I borrowed a car and drove home. So…”

“Thats it, that’s what all you got to tell me about the last four months?” Dean asked as they climbed up the stairs to Bobby’s front door.

“Oh, well. I mean…besides all the kinky sex I had with Loki? You don’t wanna hear about any of that…” River laughed when Dean stumbled on the last step, “Kidding. We didn’t do anything too kinky. I’m savin’ all that stuff for you…Hi Bobby!” River grabbed the older man in a hug when he opened the door.

“You’re gonna get it as soon as I track down Sammy,” he muttered. The hunters convened in Bobby’s kitchen as Dean went through all of Sam’s old numbers. “Come on, Sam. What the hell.” Dean paused for a minute while he thought about his next move. “Yes, hi. I lost my phone and was wondering if you could turn the GPS on…Wedge Antilles…my social? Sure, 3245. Ok thanks.”

“Did that really just work?” River asked smiling over her cup of coffee.

“Course it worked,” Dean sat down in front of Rivers laptop and logged onto the cellphone’s website, “I know that kid better than he knows himself. He’s in Pontiac, Illinois.”

“That’s close to where you were buried, Dean,” Bobby said quietly. Dean snapped the laptop closed and muttered something under his breath.

“Dean, he wouldn’t ‘ve made a deal,” River said watching as he sat across from her clenching his jaw.

“Oh, no? You tried to make a deal. You summoned a goddess of death to make a deal; of course Sam would make a deal. God damn it!” he stormed out of the kitchen followed closely by River and Bobby.

Six hours later the three hunters arrived in Pontiac, Illinois. Dean complaining about the car, it’s pitiful engine and lack of tape deck the entire time. “Alright, Winchester! Enough. You whine again about not being able to push it above 70, me and Bobby are gonna hog tie you and lock in the fucking trunk,” River yelled from the backseat. Thankfully Dean found the motel Sam was staying at a few minutes later and swung the brown Buick into a parking spot. “Lucky number 13,” River muttered as she knocked on the door to Sam’s room. A moment later a short, thin, gorgeous, half naked women answered.

“So, where is it?” she asked looking quizzically at the three people standing outside.

“Where is what?” River asked, trying to peak behind the short woman into the room beyond.

“The pizza it apparently takes three garage band dropouts to deliver?”

River glanced herself and two companions, realizing as usual they were all dressed in similar attire, layers of flannel, jeans and sturdy boots. “Uh…sorry, I think we have the wrong room,” River started, inhaling sharply when Sam’s towering form suddenly appeared in the doorway. 

Dean’s face lit up and he smiled widely at his younger brother, “Hi, Sammy.” Sam blinked twice and then grabbed Dean. River thought they were going to share a long over due, brotherly hug but instead Sam pulled out a silver dagger and swung it at Dean’s throat.

“Sam! No! It’s him!” River grabbed at the much larger mans forearm. Sam glanced down at River, “Hey, Samsquatch.” He smiled and dropped the knife before wrapping his arms around his brother. The two men embraced tightly, Dean patting his younger on the back before they pulled apart. Sam quickly wiped his eyes before he pulled River into another hug.

“So, are you guys like…together?” the brunette, which everyone had forgotten asked.

“What?” Sam looked over at her confused, “No, this is my brother.”

“Oh…ok, I guess I’ll give you guys some privacy,” she slinked off to the bedroom. Sam ushered his three visitors inside and they milled around the small sitting room. The woman reappeared a moment later and Sam walked her to the door. “Well, it was nice. Call me?” she asked toying with the buttons on Sam’s shirt.

“Yeah, sure Cindy.” Sam answered closing the door.

“It’s Kristy,” she said as the door shut in her face. Sam grabbed a couple of beers and handed one to Dean, River and Bobby. Dean opened a beer and handed it to River before opening his own and they smiled at each other. 

“Nice shirt, Sam.” River said smiling. Sam glanced down at the paisley print button up shirt and had just put on, he pulled it back off and glared at River who laughed.

“So, what are you doin’ here Sammy if you weren’t busting me outta Hell?” Dean asked his younger brother. 

“Once I figured out I couldn’t get you out of hell I started hunting Lilith. I was tracking a group of demons moving through Tennessee last week, then they took a hard turn and wound up here.”

“By yourself, Sam? You trying to become you’re old man?” Bobby asked.

“You changed all your numbers, you wouldn’t answer my emails. You’ve been off the grid for months, why? We could’ve been working together this whole time.” River asked him.

Sam sighed, “I know. I messed up. I…wasn’t thinking straight.” 

Dean got off the couch and paced before leaning down and picking up a red lacy bra, “Yeah, not thinking straight. When did you get into town?”

“Yesterday morning,” Sam answered. 

“ ‘bout when I busted out,” Dean murmured.

“You think that’s why they’re here? Because of you?” River asked.

“I dunno. Some bad ass demon rides my handsome ass out of hell and is here to rally the troops?” Dean replied.

“Yeah, about that. How are you feeling?” Bobby asked, “Feel like yourself? Different or strange?”

“Or demonic?” Dean scoffed, “Bobby I’m fine. Kind of hungry, kind of horny. Did you give Riv this much shit when she came back?”

“I didn’t go to hell hot stuff,” she said throwing her bottle cap at him, “No demon is going to give you a get out of jail free card and not have something big planned for your ‘handsome ass’.”

“Yeah, well what brought you back, huh? Aren’t we a little worried about the two of us owing some big bad?”

“I’m not too worried about it,” River quipped.

“Look we’ve got a pile of questions here and no shovel,” Sam replied.

“I got a contact, a psychic a few hours from here. I’ll give her a call and see if she can do us a solid,” Bobby said standing up and pulling out his phone. Dean stood up and headed to the kitchen for another beer.

“Hey, wait a sec.” Sam grabbed his brothers arm. “Here, figured you’d want this back.” Sam pulled Dean’s amulet from around his neck and placed in it his open palm. Dean smiled and put his necklace back on. “What…what was it like?”

River sat forward from her place on the couch, Dean glanced at her then back to brother, “What? Hell? I don’t know. I blacked it out I guess.” 

“Well, thank god for that.” Sam said, clasping his hand on his brother shoulder.

River stood up from the couch, “Yeah, thank god and all his infinite fucking mercy…” she muttered sarcastically taking a final long swallow of her beer, “You got anything stiffer than lite beer, Sam?” Dean excused himself to the restroom where he stood for several minutes staring at himself in the mirror. The screams and pain seemed to echo in his head, visions of himself being beaten and bloody flashed before his eyes. He closed his eyes against the flashes but it did no good. 

“Dean, baby, you ok?” Rivers quiet voice echoed from the other side of the door. Dean blinked the images away and stiffly walked to the door. He opened it and looked down into River’s worried face. “You’ve been in there almost thirty minutes. I thought I heard…Bobby’s psychic friend is home, she’ll be waiting for us.” 

“Alright, she lives about four hours down the interstate. Try and keep up,” Bobby yelled at the three younger hunters as he climbed into his brown car that smelled of feet. 

“Hey, you wanna drive?” Sam asked Dean as his older brother ran up to Baby and wrapped his arms lovingly along the car.

Dean hummed lowly and hugged the car, River and Sam rolling their eyes. “Should we maybe give you two a couple minutes to get reacquainted?” River asked.

“I’m gonna reacquaint you in the backseat…” he answered.

“Uh yeah not while I’m around please,” Sam said throwing the keys at his older brother. The three climbed into the car. River stretching out happily in the back seat as the brother took their post in the front. Dean started the car and whistled when he was greeted with the roar of the engine. Loud, adult alt-rock blasted over the speakers and River and Dean groaned.

“What the shit is that?” River said sitting up. Dean reached down to the stereo and pulled out Sam’s IPod.

“Really?” he said disgustedly unplugging the apparatus and tossing it in the backseat.

“Relax. You’re tapes are right here,” Sam shrugged and pulled Dean’s box of tapes out from under the seat. Dean flipped through his tapes, settled on AC/DC and pulled out of the parking lot. River was asleep in the backseat before they made it to the interstate.


	5. 5

5.

“So there’s one thing I still don’t get,” Dean said, breaking the comfortable silence in the car. River still lay in the backseat, arm thrown over her eyes and snoring softly. “How’d you get out? I thought Lilith was gonna kill you.”

Sam nodded, “I don’t know. She tried. She blasted this white, burning light at me and it didn’t work. I was…immune or something. She smoked outta there pretty quick after that…River, man, how the hell is she alive huh?”

Dean chuckled, “Says she doesn’t know either. Woke up in Manitoba completely healed, no idea how she got there or who fixed her.” He glanced in the rearview mirror at her sleeping form, she shifted slightly and murmured unintelligibly. “What about Ruby? Where is she?”

“Dead. Or in hell,” Sam answered.

Dean nodded again, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, “What about your E.S.P Jedi mind powers? You using that stuff again? Huh? Since you got what you’d say—immunity?”

“What? No, Dean. I promised, it was like your dying wish.”

“Yeah well, I asked you to take care of my car and you douched it up and I asked you to take care of her and she’s been summoning gods and hanging out with that fucking Trickster.”

River murmured again in her sleep before suddenly kicking her feet out inches from the back of Dean’s head, “Dean!” she yelled sitting up in the back seat, eyes open but unseeing and taking shaky breaths.

Dean reached his arm around the backseat, “Hey, Princess, I’m here. It’s ok.”

“Sorry…it’s been…I don’t sleep very much anymore,” River muttered sitting back in the seat rubbing her eyes. 

“Yeah, me either,” Dean murmured back. 

The Black Impala and Bobby’s brown junker arrived at the psychic’s house a little after dawn.   
Bobby barely knocked on the before it was flung open, “Bobby, you are a sight for sore eyes!” A curly brown haired woman opened the door and squeezed Bobby, lifting his feet a few inches of the ground. She set Bobby back down and turned her attention to the Winchester brothers and River, “Dean Winchester, outta the fire and back into the frying pan. You are a rare one…”

“Yeah if you say so,” Dean said, nervously shuffling his feet.

“This is Pamela Brown, best damn psychic in the state,” Bobby said introducing the woman.

She escorted the hunters into her home, “Nice, shirt, Pamela.” River said smiling at the woman’s Ramones tank top. River flashed her Misfits shirt and the two women smiled congenially . 

“So, have you heard anything?” Bobby asked.

“Nope, Quija-ed my way through a dozen spirits and no one knows who busted your boy out,” the psychic answered.

“What’s our next option?” River asked from where she stood next to Dean.

“A seance, I think,” Pamela turned to face River, “Aren’t you sweet. Boy, she loves you as sure as the day is long, it’s plastered all over her aura…you’re pretty good at blocking your thoughts though.” 

“I have a tattoo that helps with that,” River answered. Dean smiled down at her and quickly kissed her forehead. “We aren’t planning on summoning, whatever it is here right?”

“Nope, just want to take a quick peek, like taking a glance through a crystal ball except I’m the crystal ball.” Pamela led the hunters into her seance room. There was a small, round wooden table in the middle of the room. Heavy curtains blocked the windows, charms and statues were sprinkled around the room creating protective warding from evil spirits. River wandered around the room, picking up the idols and totems. Pam bent down to gather something and her shirt rode up in the back exposing her lower back tattoo ‘Jesse Forever’.

 

Dean smiled and elbowed his brother. “Who’s Jesse?” Dean asked. 

Pam stood up and smiled at the brothers, “Well he definitely wasn’t forever.” She stood in front of the older Winchester, “His loss might be your gain…Wow! I heard that loud and clear, just kidding. Got it, the green eyes one is off limits.” Pamela looked over her shoulder at River who smiled back.

“The giant is up for grabs,” River told her sitting down at the seance table. 

Pam smirked at Sam, “Hmm…I’ve always wanted to scale a mountain.” Dean almost choked with laughter as Pam sat at the table next to River. Once the others were seated Pamela readied her self for the seance, “Ok everyone hold hands and I’ll need to touch something that our mystery monster touched.” 

Dean shifted in his seat and took his top layer of flannel off, rolled up his sleeve and showed the scar to Pamela. Sam took in a sharp breath when he saw the scarred, red handprint. Pamela started her invocation of the spirit, “I invoke, conjure and command you to appear before me in this circle.” She repeated the phrase several more times as the hunters shared glances over the lit candles. The TV set behind Pamela turned itself on, static and white noise filling the room, the table shook and the candles flickered. “Castiel? No, sorry Castiel I’m not afraid of you…”

“Castiel?” Dean asked.

Pam turned her head towards Dean’s voice, her eyes still closed “Castiel is it’s name. It’s warning me…to turn back, to stop….I conjure and command you to show me your face.” The room filled with a high pitched whine, the table vibrated causing the candles to flicker. 

River sat forward in her seat, the high ringing noise in the room becoming unbearable, “Maybe you should listen to it, Pam. Break the circle.” 

“No, I’ve almost got it! I conjure and command you, show me your face!” Pamela yelled, the candles flared and she screamed as her eyes ignited and burned.

“Break the circle! Castiel we reject you from this circle, you are banished from this circle!” River jumped up and smothered the flames on the candles with the tablecloth. A great burst of energy exploded from the center of the room knocking the men still in their chairs ass over elbow and River into the nearest wall.

Pamela thankfully lost consciousness and remained unresponsive as the paramedics gingerly loaded her onto the gurney and into the ambulance. “A deep fryer accident?” one of the EMT’s asked Dean for the third time.

“Yeah she was, um trying to deep-fry a turkey. The old man ‘ll follow you to the hospital if the docs have any more questions,” Dean stood in the street and watched as the ambulance drove away, lights and sirens blaring.

River and Sam sat on the porch swing each nursing a tumbler of whiskey. “You want to tell us what the hell that was?” Dean roared, stomping up the stairs to stand in front of River. 

“Dean, how the hell would she know?” Sam asked cautiously. 

“Because the same damn thing happened to a room full of people that were tryin’ to save her life!” Dean yelled again. 

River took another sip of her whiskey, “Dean, I don’t know. I told you everything I know-“

Dean swatted the glass out of her hand and grabbed her wrist pulling her out of the swing. Sam jumped up as well, “Let her go, Dean!”

“D, let go of me” River told him, Dean twisting her wrist just a fraction and causing her to yelp in pain, “Please you’re hurting me."

“This isn't me hurting you. I can hurt you if I need to. Tell me what the hell that was,” he hissed, “Pamela might die. She was trying to help us.” Dean’s features hardened, his jaw set. River looked into his eyes and for a moment saw a stranger, a man full of rage and hate.

“I can’t tell you…I don’t know,” she said again as Dean’s grip tightened. Sam pulled his arm back and connected with Dean’s jaw, causing his older brother to stagger and let go of River’s wrist. Sam grabbed her and pulled her behind his large frame.

“You better get your head straight, Dean. Don’t you ever grab her like that again!” Sam yelled. Dean rubbed his jaw, the pain seeming to clear his mind. He glanced at his brother and behind him to River who was rubbing the bruises forming around her wrist.

“Riv..shit. I didn’t mean,” he started.

River held her hands up, “Just…it’s fine.” She paused when her cellphone started to buzz “Hey Macarena!”. “…I’m gonna take this call.” She walked away from the brothers and back into the house where she quietly talked into the phone. Dean rubbed his jaw where Sam had socked him and paced around the small porch. River returned to the porch after a few moments and locked Pam’s front door, “You guys wanna go get some lunch?”

The three arrived at a small diner in the middle of town after an uncomfortably silent drive. Sam excused himself to call Bobby and check in on Pamela while River and Dean sat at the table. “Lemme see your wrist,” Dean said after a moment. She cocked her head and held out her arm, Dean pulled back her long sleeve shirt and inspected the bruises he had left around her wrist. He hissed through his teeth, “Shit, baby, I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry…I’m scared. I don’t know what we’re facing here.”

“Well, it can’t be any worse than what we’ve already faced,” she told him. “But if you ever try and hurt me like that again I will stab you in the dick,” she finished with a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek. Dean nodded in understanding as Sam joined them at the table.

“Bobby says Pam is stable, they’re moving her out of the ICU.”

“But blind,” River added.

“And we have no clue what are dealing with.” Sam continued.

“That’s not entirely true. We have a name, Castiel” Dean said, “We can use it, summon it here, bind it and waterboard it until we get some damn answers.”

“Dean, you saw what it did to Pam and she just wanted a peek. It could tear us apart if we try a face to face,” River told him, eyes darting up as the waitress slammed plates of food down in front of the hunters before taking a seat at the end of the table. “You looking for a tip, sweet cheeks?” River asked. 

The waitress smiled, “Thought you might be lookin’ for us.” The waitress’ eyes turned solid black as did the eyes of the three other patrons in the restaurant. One of them, a meat suit dressed as a mechanic got up and locked the front door. “Dean, Dean, Dean….to hell and back. What makes you so special, huh? You just get to stroll right outta Hades.”

Dean smiled cockily, “I like to think its my winning personality or maybe my cute ass. I don’t know what pulled me out or why.”

“Lying’s a sin, you know that right?” the waitress said.

“I’m not lyin’, Flo. But I will tell you we’re all real interested in what did pull me out.”

“Mind your tone with me, I don’t need hellhounds to drag you back to hell,” the waitress smirked. River and Sam reached for their respective guns but stilled when Dean raised his hand.

“No you won’t. If you were gonna kill me, kill us. You would’ve done it already,” Dean looked at his brother and River, “You’re just as spooked as we are. I bet whatever dragged me out is way above your pay grade…but you go ahead do what you think you need to do. Don’t come cryin’ to me when whatever is comes knockin’ at your door with some vaseline and a baseball bat because they want me here, sweet cheeks.”

The demon growled, “I’m gonna reach down your throat and pull out your lungs. Then I’m gonna make your brother rape your girlfriend to death.” Dean smirked then slapped the demon causing her head to knock to the side. She took a deep breath and stared at Dean but didn’t utter any further threats.

“That’s what I thought. Let’s go,” Dean stood up from the table and pulled out his wallet and threw a crumpled bill at the waitress, “For the pie.” He grasped River’s sweaty hand in his own and they left the diner.

“Holy shit, holy fucking shit that was close,” River stammered as the walked back to Baby, “Shouldn’t we…I don’t know try and fucking gank those black eyed assholes.”

“How? We only got the one demon killing knife between the three of us and there’s at least three of them in there,” Dean said.

Sam turned to face them, “I’ve been killing a lot more demons than that lately.”

Dean still had her hand grasped tightly in his, “They’re scared. They don’t know what pulled me out either. We are dealing with a bad mofo here. One job at a time; those assholes can wait.” They drove back to the Astoria motel discussing again the problems of potentially summoning Castiel. River and Dean scoured through notes and books on warding and binding before finally falling asleep sometime before midnight. Sam sat watching them, River asleep with her head resting on Deans lap before getting up silently and leaving the room taking the car keys with him.

The clock on the nightstand clicked to 12:23 am; River and Dean had shifted in their bed. Dean now spooning her from behind and tightly grasping her to his chest. The TV set clicked on as did the radio, the sound of static causing the hunters to wake. “What the he-“ River started turning over to grab her shotgun as Dean pulled his gun out from under his pillow. A high pitched ringing caused them both to stop and glance around the room, noticing that Sam’s bed was conspicuously empty. They fanned out across the room, Dean heading towards the front door as River moved towards the window. The ringing increased in pitch, causing them to stagger and hold their ears, the mirror above the bed cracking from the high frequency.

River let out a strangled cry as she dropped her shotgun to try and press her hands to ears tighter, “What? It’s too loud! I can’t understand!” The mirror shattered, sending glass shards raining down; Dean jumped at River knocking her to the ground as the windows exploded in wards. The pain in their heads was becoming unbearable and just when they thought the pressure would cause their eardrums to explode the door was kicked in. 

“Dean! River” Bobby’s muffled voice rang out. They pulled each other to their feet and staggered out of the room and towards Bobby. The three hunters ran from the room and whatever presence was trying it’s damnedest to pop their skulls.

“You two ok?” Bobby asked once they retreated to his car and were burning blacktop.

“What?” River yelled from the backseat, her ears muffled like she’d attended a rock concert. Dean turned to face her and gave her a thumbs up, “Oh yeah, I’m ok!” she yelled back, picking a shard of glass out of her hair, “Just a couple of cuts!”

Dean and Bobby exchanged a look before Dean pulled out his cellphone. “Hey, Sam where are you?” 

“I was hungry; went to go get a burger. Why are you up? Everything ok?” Sam answered, he had taken the Impala and was sitting across town in front of the diner they had fled from earlier.

“Yeah, Bobby’s back. The three of us are going to go get some beers,” Dean answered, earning a surprised glance from Bobby.

“Yeah, ok, well spill one for me,” Sam said before hanging up.

“Why didn’t you tell him what happened?” Bobby asked.

River sat forward, “ ‘cause he’d just try to stop us, right?” her voice slightly back to it’s normal tone.

“Stop what?” Bobby glanced back at her.

“From summoning this thing,” Dean said, “It’s not gonna stop until it get what it wants. I’m not gonna be caught with my pants down again Bobby. Next time our heads are gonna blow ‘Scanners’ style.”

“You two idjits are outta yer mind,” Bobby told them.

River laughed, “Yeah, what gave it away? We do this, we do it right. We’re still probably gonna die but…”

Dean turned to face her, “We got the demon killing pig sticker and Bobby’s got an arsenal in the trunk. We summon it, bind it and beat the shit outta it until it gives us answers.”

The three hunters drove further out of town into the country side and decided on a rickety barn in the middle of an overgrown field. River and Dean spent the next few hours spray painting sigils onto every available surface while Bobby readied their weapons. “I’m gonna say it again, so you idjits are perfectly aware, this is a bad idea.” 

River stood up and wiped her dirty hands onto her dirtier jeans, “Yeah, we hear you Papa Bear. But we got sigils and binding marks from two dozen faiths covering this place.”

“And iron, salt, silver and the knife. We’re covered to kill just about anything any of us has ever heard of…” 

River exchanged a look with Dean and picked up her rock salt filled shotgun, “Let’s crank dial this asshat already.”

Bobby muttered again, stalked to the alter they had set up and began the summoning spell. An hour after the ritual ended the three hunters sat in the quiet barn. “You sure you pronounced all the words correctly?” River asked. Bobby glared at her and tossed a shotgun shell at her head. She took a breath and turned to Dean but before the words could leave her mouth the ground under them began to shake. The lightbulbs in the abandoned barn flickered to life then exploded, showering sparks everywhere. Blue lights flashed through the holes in the roof and the rafters shook as if something heavy landed on them.

“Maybe it’s just the wind?” Dean yelled over the cacophony. The barn doors swung open and a shadowed figure calmly strode in, passing each sigil and totem as if they were invisible. Dean and Bobby grabbed their guns and began firing at the figure. River stood still and watched as the man walked towards them, shotgun hanging at her side. She raised her hand and placed it on Dean’s forearm and shook her head. Bobby glanced at them but kept firing. The man stopped in front of the three hunters. He was an unassuming young man wearing a suit, a blue tie and a brown trench coat. His dark auburn hair was messy as if he had been out in the wind and his blue eyes shone confidently. Dean dropped his shotgun and reached behind him grasping the demon killing knife, “Who are you?” he yelled.

The man followed Dean’s movements with amusement, “I am the one that gripped you tight and pulled you from perdition.”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Dean said as he thrust the deadly tip of the knife into the beings heart.

“Dean no!” River yelled a second to late. The knife sank into the mans chest and he stared down at it before grabbing it by the handle and pulling it out, no sign of pain or anything more than a minor annoyance crossing his face. “Oh fuck, “ River whispered. Bobby swung an iron crowbar at the man’s head and he stopped it with his forearm. The man reached two fingers towards Bobby’s forehead, the man fell instantly to the ground in an unmoving heap. River took a step back, raising her hands, “Hey, time out. I didn’t shoot you…I can see…are those…shit.” The man touched her forehead as well and Rivers eyes rolled back and she slumped down, his quick arms reached out and guided her gently to the floor.

“You son of a bitch, if you hurt them…” Dean yelled.

The man stared impassively down at River’s still form, “You’re friends are sleeping. They will wake up when we are done. But we need to talk privately.”

“Who are you?” Dean demanded, leaning down to check River’s pulse.

“I am Castiel,” the man answered.

Dean stood back up, “I mean what are you?”

“I am an angel of the Lord,” Castiel answered. 

“Go to hell,” Dean scoffed, “An angel? They don’t exist, they’re myths.”

The barn flickered again with lightening flashes as Castiel spread his invisible wings, the shadows bouncing off the wall behind him. Dean looked as the shadows revealed Castiel’s unfurled wings, some feathers obviously broken and bent as if from a fight or struggle. “You lack faith, Dean Winchester. I’ve tried communicating with you."

Dean’s emerald eyes widened and stared into the Angels crystal blue ones, “That was you? At the gas station and the motel room? You almost killed me and River. Next time lower the volume.”

Castiel dipped his head in apology, “That was my mistake, certain special individuals can see my true form, hear my true voice. My true visage. You are not one of those individuals.”

Dean glanced down at River and Bobby who were both still sound asleep, “And what visage is this? Holy tax account?”

“This?” Castiel plucked at his bullet hole ridden trench coat, “This is a vessel.”

“So your possessing this guy? You took this poor sap away from his life, his family,” Dean started.

“He is a devout man, he prayed for this opportunity and gave me permission to enter his body,” Castiel cut him off. 

Dean shook his head, a sad smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, “Look, buddy, I’m not buying what your selling. Why would an angel rescue me from hell?”

Castiel took a step towards the hunter, “Good things do happen, Dean.”

“Not in my experience,” Dean answered, eyes flicking again to River’s unconscious form.

The angel cocked his head and stared at Dean with his unsettling blue eyes, “What’s the matter, Dean…You don’t think you deserve to be saved.” Castiel had an almost sorrowful look on his face, his eyebrows knit together with concentration.

Dean shook his head again, “No. Why’d you do it?”

“Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you,” Castiel said. Before Dean could reject this answer as well their was a flutter of invisible wings and Castiel disappeared from the barn. Dean stood in the silent barn for a few moments before leaning down to his unconscious companions. “Riv, baby, wake up. You ok?” he patted her cheeks lately until she stirred.

“Everything’s shiny captain, not to fret,” she answered through half lidded eyes.

“Yeah, your quoting Firefly you must be fine…Bobby time to get up!” he yelled at the older hunter. The old man grumbled before groggily sitting up and muttering, “Balls.”


	6. Chapter 6

6.

“Give me your son’s souls and you and Dean are free to go,” Lilith’s white eyes bore into River. The chance of freedom, a get out of jail free card dangled in front of her face but at what cost. The implications of choosing either option made River’s heart pound erratically in her chest; Dean would be spared from Hell but their innocent sons would take his place, refuse and they all die. In the end the choice was easy, she knew she’d rather die, as would Dean, then live with knowledge they’d sent their children to Hell in his place. “No,” the word slipped out before her brain registered it and the pain immediately followed, the feeling of her insides being ravaged by the demon’s power. The memory of the pain jarred River awake, she sat up grabbing at her abdomen before choking on a sob. She wiped off the thin veil of sweat that covered her face and got out of bed on unsteady legs. Dean shifted in the bed next to her and murmured something.

River quietly made her way to the small kitchen in her apartment, the apartment she would be moving out of in two days when her month to month lease lapsed. Her meager belongings were mostly packed and fit in two cardboard boxes she already had stacked at the door, ready to go to Bobby’s for safekeeping. As much as they enjoyed having privacy, a clean shower and a bed to make love in whenever they wanted Dean and River were getting stir crazy. They wanted to get on the road, find a case and keep busy. 

It had been nearly two weeks since meeting Castiel. The quiet time between sleep and sex had led to a dark cloud settling over River. She had spent the last four months avoiding the pain of losing her sons and Dean by running from case to case or chasing any lead on springing a Hell jailbreak. Now Dean was back but the feeling of loss remained, the loss of what could have been, the loss of a desperate dream. Dean noticed the way she sometimes zoned out in front of him, unable to meet his eyes, hands or body trembling and he did the only thing he knew how which was to wrap his arms around her, murmur in her ear, or kiss her until she broke out of the fog. Often smiling up at him and making an excuse about being tired or apologizing for not being able to keep it together. She felt guilty for her lapses into darkness; Dean had been to Hell and back and hadn’t complained once and he had adamantly told her that he remembered nothing.

Dean padded groggily into the kitchen, sitting at the table next to River where she had his steaming cup of black coffee waiting. “Mornin’,” he grunted once he got his first mouthful of coffee.

“Mornin’, Bobby wants us to come over. Wants to talk about your Guardian Angel,” River said smiling at him over her cup of coffee. 

“Whatever Castiel is, he isn’t a fucking angel,” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Well, what else could he be, Dean?” Sam asked. Dean and River had showered and headed to Bobby’s as requested. Sam sat at the kitchen table, while Dean paced and River and Bobby perused books.

“All I know is I wasn’t groped by an angel,” Dean told him.

“Why would this Castiel lie about it? Lie about what he is?” Sam countered. River laid her book in her lap and smiled, she missed hearing the brothers argue.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s some kind of demon, demons lie.”

“A demon that’s immune to salt, holy water, iron and Ruby’s knife? A demon that can march past demon traps and binding sigils?” River called. Dean turned to face her with a scowl and Sam smiled thankful for the backup.

“Exactly, thank you River. Even Lilith is afraid of Ruby’s knife.” Sam said.

Dean sighed, “All I’m saying is, don’t you think some hunter, somewhere would have seen an Angel…”

“Yeah, one did Winchester. You. And angels of one form or another have been written about for millennia in religions all over the world.”

Dean threw his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’m trying to come up with a theory here!” 

“Um, we got one Dean. Angels.” River said turning back to her book.

“You chuckleheads wanna keep arguing or you wanna come look at this,” Bobby finally called from his desk. The three came to stand in front of Bobby looking a lot like three trouble makers that had been sent to the Principals office. “I got books here that are pre-Biblical and they all say the same thing; Angels can pluck a soul out of the Inferno and return them to Earth.” 

River and Sam shared a look before turning to Dean. “What else? What else can do it?” Dean asked.

“What else could have air-evaced your soul outta the pit? Nothing as far as I can tell,” Bobby said.

“Are you really trying to tell me that there are Angels? And so what then? There’s a God,” Dean sighed, “I just don’t believe it.”

“Dean this is becoming less and less about faith and more about proof,” Sam said. “This is good this means this isn’t more demon head games. There is someone out there on our side.”

River remained quiet and turned away from the men, fingers tracing the small charm around her neck. “I just can’t believe there is a God out there that is interested in me personally,” Dean said.

“Why not Dean?” Sam asked.

“Because why me?” he countered, “After everything…why now? I mean, babe, are you buying this shit?”

River turned back around, “Angels, maybe. God with a capital ‘g’, no. If Big Daddy is out there he can go fuck himself as far as I’m concerned. But this isn’t about me, its about you. If Castiel is what he says then he saved you, pulled you outta hell and brought you home. We should at least listen and see what he has to say the next time he shows up.”

“Fine, so what do we know about angels?” Dean relented. 

Bobby stood up and picked up a stack of musty books, “Start readin’.”

Dean groaned, “Damn it, fine. You’re gonna go get me some pie.” He jabbed his finger at Sam before joining River on the sagging couch. Sam nodded and left the house, Dean yelling after him not to forget the pie.

“Maybe you should call him and remind him about the potato chips,” River nudged Dean about ten minutes after Sam left, “And the pie. And rum. I need something besides whiskey.” Dean took out his phone, muttering “Good Idea” and called his younger brother.

Bobby paced in his kitchen, telephone held to his ear for several minutes before slamming it down on the cradle.

“What’s wrong, Papa Bear?” River asked him when the older hunter walked back to his desk.

“Been trying to get a hold of a friend on mine about this angel crap. Olivia, she’s a hunter, lives about three hours from here. Except she hasn’t answered her phone is three days, it’s not like her,” he said.

“Well, why don’t you guys go check it out. I can stay, keep researching our feathered friend and I need to finish packing anyways,” River told him. Dean agreed and got off the couch to pack his and Sam’s duffle bags. 

“You sure you’ll be ok?” Dean asked. Sam returned from the supply run and Bobby gave him a quick update before the younger man even get out of the car.

“Yeah, I think I can sit on my ass and do research for a few hours. I’m just gonna run back to the apartment and make sure I got everything packed and I’ll bring it all back here later,” River told him. Dean nodded and slid behind the wheel of Baby. She watched as the two cars sped out of the salvage yard before gathering a few of Bobby’s books and driving back to her apartment.

After breaking speed limits in five counties Bobby, Dean, and Sam arrived in a quiet neighborhood and parked outside a small white house. “Olivia?” Bobby called, opening the door to his friends small home. Sam and Dean followed behind guns at the ready.The smell of blood reached their nostrils before they found the woman’s body. She was spread out on the ground in front of her bed with her chest a gapping, red hole. Bobby took one look at the body of his friend and rushed out of the house.

Sam and Dean remained in the small home and cautiously approached the body. “Salt line,” Dean said nodding towards the white line of salt separating the dead woman’s sleeping area from living room. The wall behind the bed was open and revealed a weapons stash as well as an EMF that was still beeping weakly. The woman still grasped a shotgun in one hand, her eyes open and staring. 

“EMF too,” Sam said picking up the device, “I’ve never seen a spirit that could do this to a human though.” Bobby returned a moment later, stuffing his cellphone back into his jacket pocket.

“Called two other hunters in the area, they ain’t answering either,” he said, glancing down at the body of his friend.

“What the hell do you think is going on, Bobby?” Dean asked.

The older man shook his head, “I don’t know. But it ain’t nothin’ good.” 

Back in Sioux Falls, River scanned her apartment one last time, throwing her last few belongings into the open duffel bag by the door. She turned her iPod on to something loud, put a pot of coffee on to brew and sat on the small couch in her living room/ kitchen and continued reading about Angel lore. “Hey, hot stuff, what’s shakin’ ?” she asked after pulling her ringing phone out of her pocket.

“Where are you?” Dean asked, the rumbling sound of the Impala in the background.

“Told you I was gonna finish packing and hang out at my place till you guys got home. I’m guessing we don’t have good new about Bobby’s friend.”

“No. She’s dead. Looks like a sp-“ Static overcame Dean’s voice and the call disconnected with a beeping sound.

“Dean?” River said, she tried calling him back but the call wouldn’t connect. She shivered suddenly causing her teeth to chatter. The room had grown cold. So cold in fact that she saw her breath puff out in front of her in small white clouds. She heard a low beeping noise coming from her open duffle bag by the door and she got up to check it. Her EMF detector had turned itself on; the red lights blazing indicating the highest reading. She reached into her bag and pulled out her shotgun and a box of rock salt filled shells. She flicked the shot gun open and loaded shells into it.

“Hey, fag hag,” a quiet voice echoed behind her. River spun towards the voice and saw her former partner Corey standing across the room. His once vibrant blonde hair and tan skin had a sickly gray sheen and he wavered as if he were made out of a thick mist. 

“I burned you. You can’t be here,” River said quietly, shuffling sideways towards the door.

Corey smiled, “Yeah, well what can I say. I’ve been waitin’ to pay you a visit. Missed my old huntin’ buddy.” He blinked out like a light and reappeared several feet closer. River turned towards the door and grabbed the door knob. She screamed and pulled her hand away as the freezing door knob burned the flesh on her palm. Corey laughed right behind her and his freezing hand grabbed Rivers shoulder, spinning her back to face him. “I can’t let you get away that easy.” She fired the shotgun into his abdomen and he disappeared. She took a shaky breath, tossed the spent shells out of her shotgun, reloaded, and moved away from the door. She pulled her phone out of her pocket with her burned hand, fingers shaking through the pain to dial Deans.

Dean picked up on the second ring, “Riv, you ok? We’re ten minutes away,”

“Dean, I’m in trouble. Co—“ the call was cut off again as Corey reappeared. 

“You bitch. You stupid bitch,” he growled. “Did you see what the fucking shifter did to me!” he roared. “Just had to go after it. Didn’t you? Huh? That case was your idea and I’m fucking dead because of you!” the spirit screamed, swatting River into the wall like a rag doll. She slammed into the wall and slid down to a sitting position, dazed but still grasping her gun.

“You bitchy queen, you had one job!” she yelled back, “All you had to do was shoot him with a silver bullet. I took care of the kids! ”

Corey kneeled in front of her and cocked his head, “You let that thing kill me. He cut me apart. He started when I was still alive. God, you have no idea…I’m gonna make you feel what I felt.” She fired the shotgun again and Corey blew apart in a cloud of smoke. River heaved herself to her feet and ran back towards her duffle bag for more ammo. Before she could reach the bag the angry ghost reappeared, his dirty fingernails raking through the soft skin on her forearm. Blood flowed in thick rivulets onto the floor from the jagged wounds the spirit had created. She swung the shotgun like a club, causing the spirit to break apart again the forward motion and loss of blood caused her to teeter on her feet and she landed on her knees. She grabbed more shells with shaking , bloody hands and positioned herself with her back to the wall as she loaded her shotgun. 

“River!” Dean’s voice boomed from the other side of her door, he banged on the door so hard it shook in its frame. 

“Dean! I can’t get the door open!” River yelled back. "Fuck." Corey reappeared aiming to take another swipe at her when two loud shots rang out, knocking the doorknob out of the door. Dean and Sam stood on the other side of the door and as one kicked the door in wards. River fired her gun again into her dead partners face causing his spirit to dissipate. The two hunters stepped into the freezing apartment, Dean grabbed River under her armpits and hauled her to her feet as Sam grabbed her bag of weapons. They ran out of the apartment and the three hunters crammed into the front seat of Baby. They saw one last glimpse of the angry spirit staring at them from the ruined door to River’s apartment.

“Who the fuck was that?” Dean asked as he wildly swung the Impala away from the apartment building.

“My former partner, the much dead Queen Corey,” River hissed as Sam tightly wrapped a bandage around her bleeding forearm. “I salted and burned him, what was left of him anyways. What the fuck was that?” The brothers shook their heads and the three sped towards Bobby’s house. Dean filled her in on the hunter, Olivia, that had been apparently murdered by a spirit. “Shit, I should call Levi. He might now something.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and called the ex-Amish, Pow-Wow healer. “Hey, Levi has Bobby called you yet?”

“River? No, Bobby hasn’t called me. What’s wrong?” Levi answered. 

River hissed again as Sam prodded her burned hand, “God Damn it, Sam. That fucking hurts…sorry Levi, I got attacked by a very pissed off spirit. Someone I salted and burned about five years ago.”

Levi made a “hmm” noise as he thought, “Did salt deter it?”

“Nope not really. Bobby’s friend, Olivia, was torn apart by sprit. EMF wonky high and an unbroken salt line in the room they found her…Hey, I hid some stuff under your couch the last time I spent the night.”

“What did you hide, River McGregor?” Levi sighed as he bent down, she heard scrapping as he pulled the hidden items from underneath his couch.

“It’s a shotgun. There’s two boxes of shells, the green ones are rock salt and the red are regular. There should be an EMF detector if that things lights up you need to get out, get on your horse and buggy and leave.”

“River, I really don’t think this is necessary but thank you for your concern. I’ll research these spirits and call if I find anything.” River ended the call and stuck the phone back in her pocket, she turned towards Dean and noticed his green eyes were glaring at her. 

“So, you spent the night at Levi’s?” he said as the pulled into the Singer Salvage Yard.

River laughed, “Yeah as in I crashed on his couch after we finished a really nasty case and not like sexy time sleep over…Levi’s basically a fucking monk are you kidding me? What kind of girl do you think I am anyways…” 

Dean thought through the possible answers and settled on the wisest one, “The kind that loves me?”

She smiled, “Good answer, Winchester.” The three hunters stood on Bobby’s porch, having knocked several times at the door and waiting for an answer. “So, this isn’t a good sign…” River muttered. Dean opened the door and the three quietly stepped into the house.

“Bobby!” Dean loudly whispered. No answer came from within the dark house. “You check outside. We’ ll check in here,” Dean said to his brother, River nodded and walked silently towards the back of the house. Dean headed upstairs and Sam went outside to the junkyard. 

Dean paused on the second floor landing and called for Bobby again. Hearing no reply he started taking tentative steps towards the first open door. The temperature in the hallway dropped and a figure flickered into being behind him. Dean turned to face the newcomer and stared at her for a few seconds before recognizing her, “Meg?” The last time he had run into the demon Meg, she had been a perky platinum blonde with a short, Twiggy like haircut and skin tight clothes. The young woman in front of had mousy brown hair and an outfit fit fo a preachers daughter. 

She smiled at the hunter, “Yep, Meg Masters. This is how I looked, you know before that demon chopped my hair off and dressed me like a slut. Nice to finally meet you when I’m not choking on my own blood.”

“You’re the girl the demon was possessing,” Dean said remembering Meg’s final moments of anguish. He and Sam had managed to exorcise the demon but Meg’s body was broken beyond repair, she had been thrown out a third story window, shot, stabbed and had the holy hell beat out of her by the Winchesters prior to the exorcism. Meg took a step towards him and Dean retreated raising his shotgun.

“Serisoulsy, Dean. It’s ok, I’m just a college girl…was a college girl,” Meg smiled again, “ You know before I got jumped by the black smoke on the way home from class. I was awake the whole time in here,” she pointed to her temple, “She made me watch while she killed people, fucked people. I was a virgin before all that…”

Dean blinked several times but remained silent. “I screamed and screamed for someone to save me, to help me. Why didn’t you save me, Dean? That’s your job!”

“I’m sorry.” Dean stuttered trying to appease the angry spirit.

Med took another menacing step forward, “You’re sorry! You seemed real sorry when you had me thrown out that window! I felt my spine break!”

“I’m sorry…” Dean tried again.

“Quit saying your sorry!” Meg slapped him in the face with enough force to knock the strong hunter down. Before he could get to his feet Meg kicked him in the face, in the ribs and then kicked his gun away. “I’m dead because of you! You think you’re some kind of hero? You’re no hero. Your family comes first, your revenge, your blood thirst no matter who gets caught in the crossfire! What about me or my family? You have no idea how they suffered because of what happened to me!”

Dean pushed himself away a few feet, “Meg…”

Meanwhile out in the junkyard, Sam investigated between the piles of scrap cars. He called Bobby’s name but got no response and there were no fresh track marks he could follow. He turned in place and took several deep breaths noticing that his breath was coming out in cold white puffs. “Bobby! I’m here! I’ll find you!” Sam grabbed a metal pole and used it to jimmy the trunks of several cars around him but to no avail Bobby wasn’t in any of them. “Shit!” he muttered, growing desperate. He looked up at the stacked piles of junk cars, noticing one near the top of a precarious pile that’s mirror was slowly frosting over. “Bobby!” Sam yelled again, the big hunter scaled the stack of cars like a mountain goat. Reaching the suspect car and seeing Bobby being held down by twin girls with matching dirty, brown hair and blue dresses. Sam swung the iron pole at them causing them to break apart into mist and pulled Bobby free.

River slowly stalked through the dark hallway in the back of Bobby’s house, opening doors and checking under the piles of junk. The temperature in the hallway dropped suddenly and River spun on her heels, shotgun raised. “Hey, partner.” Corey appeared before her, this time with a short pretty blonde woman.

“Sara?” River took a step back and closed her eyes. Sara once happy face was covered in an angry scowl, her blonde hair hung limp and dirty. Like Corey she seemed to have grey sheen and looked like she had rolled in dirt and blood before appearing.

“Look what you did to us.” Sara said quietly, “Did you see what that monster did to my son? You let it kill us! You knew it was coming and you left us undefended!”

River shook her head, “I didn’t. I’m so sorry…I thought you’d be in more danger if I came.” The spirits advanced a few steps and River reached the end of the hall. “Please, I never meant for any of this to happen to you. Either of you. I cared about you, we were friends.”

“Friends?” Sara and Corey said as one. “How could someone like you ever have friends? You, naive, ignorant bitch you run around with your guns and your books acting like a hero. You’ve never helped anyone, you’ve left a trail of blood, bodies and broken lives. You deserve to die just like we did.”

“No…” River said quietly. Corey threw his hand out and sent River sprawling into a pile of junk against the wall. The spirits stood over her for a moment as she shoved herself back to her feet. They reached for her again but this time River fired her shotgun, causing the spirits to disintegrate. She ran back down the hallway, “Dean! Where are you?” She heard thundering footsteps overhead as Dean barreled down the stairs.

“I’m here, sweetheart. You ok?” the met at the foot of the stairs and checked each bother quickly. Finding nothing more than some new scrapes and bruises. The front door was flung open and in came Sam and Bobby. The four hunters convened in Bobby’s library.

“They’re people we know?” Sam asked.

River shook her head, “People we didn’t save. People we should’ve saved.” She sat on the couch next to Dean as the reloaded their weapons and shoved extra rounds into their jacket pockets.

“Hey, I noticed something on Meg. A tattoo or a brand on her hand. She didn’t have it when she alive,” Dean said. The hunters had debriefed each other on the spirits they had encountered to find the link tying them together and to each other.

“What did it look like?” Bobby asked. Dean quick drew the mark from memory and handed it to Bobby. Bobby looked at the mark, it was circular with curved lines in the center and sigils tying the lines together.

“I’ve seen this before,” Bobby turned to his bookshelf and began handing Sam stacks of books. The lights in the room flickered and the radio came to life, tuning through static filled changels. River and Dean stood and cocked their guns. “Come on, we got get somewhere safe.” Bobby said leading them to his basement. The four hunters walked through the dank basement to a steel door. Bobby turned the knob and led them inside. From the inside it looked like a silo, twenty foot high metal walls leading the a giant fan circulating fresh air, sigils where painted on the walls and floor. An old HAM radio set on a desk, cans of food and MRE’s were stacked in a pile against the far wall, an arsenal of melee style weapons and guns were stored in a shelf on the opposite wall. Dean, Sam and River spread out across the small space.

“Bobby is this?” Sam started touching the wall.

“Solid iron, coated in salt. 100% ghost proof.” Bobby answered.

River and Dean smiled at each other then looked to Bobby. “Papa Bear, you built a ghost proof fallout shelter?” 

Bobby puffed his chest out slight, a lite pink tinge creeping up his bearded cheeks. “Well…I had a weekend off.”

Dean’s smile grew wider, “Bobby, you are awesome!”


	7. 7

7.  
Bobby sat at his desk in the panic room and began researching the mark Dean had drawn. Sam and Dean sat at another small table and filled shotgun shells with salt, while River sat on the ground in the middle of the room with a pile of weapons she was checking. Dean sighed loudly causing River and Sam to look over at him. “See, this is why I can’t get behind God.”

“What do you mean, Dean?” Sam asked.

“If there is no god, then bad shit just happens to good people. No rhyme or reason it's just the way of the universe. But if there is a god and all this evil stuff just keeps happening to innocent people then where is He, huh? Where was He when our…where was He any of the times we needed Him?” Dean slammed a shotgun shell on the table. 

“It’s all just a cosmic joke, Dean. Life, if this is what you can a life,” River set the gun she’d been loading down and glanced around their iron cage, “it’s just a joke. One we don’t know the punchline to. If there is a God, he doesn’t care what happens to any of us, innocent or not.”

“Well, isn’t that a pleasant outlook,” Bobby huffed, “I found the symbol you saw on the ghosts. The Mark of the Witness.”

Sam stood up and walked to Bobby, glancing at the book the man was reading, “Witness to what?”

“The unnatural? I don’t know. None of these people died ordinary deaths,” Bobby readjusted his hat, “These spirits were forced to rise, they’re in agony, this isn’t their fault.”

“What the hell could have the mojo for a spell like that? And why? What’s the endgame here?” River asked.

“Don’t know, but it seems to align with a prophecy.”

Now Dean stood up, his brows knotting together in worry, “What prophecy? What book is written in?” 

Bobby pulled another dusty book from the bottom of his pile, “It’s known as the ‘Rising of the Witnesses’. And the abridged version can be found in the book of Revelations.”

“Always loved that chapter,” River muttered, dusting her hands off and standing up stretching her back.

“This is a sign kids,” Bobby told the younger hunters.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look then turned to Bobby, “ A sign of what?” They asked in tandem.

“The apocalypse,” River answered before Bobby could get the words out. He smiled at the red head as she stood in front of the Winchesters. “You two should really read more…you know if we don’t all die today we should start a book club!”

Dean scoffed at her and Bobby, “Wait, the Apocalypse, apocalypse. The four horsemen, $5 a gallon gas…” 

“Every civilization, every religion has an end times prophecy….what do we do Bobby?” River asked.

“I know what were gonna do. Road trip! Grand Canyon, Disneyland. Threesome at the Bunny Ranch?” Dean waggled his eyebrows at River. She grimaced, ‘Eww’

“How about we try and survive our newly risen friends out there?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, I like that idea better. How do we get rid of them?” River asked. 

Bobby turned a few pages in his book, “Got a spell here that should work and I’m pretty sure I got everything we need in the house.” 

“Should work? Any chance we got everything we need right here in this room?” Dean asked.

River laughed, “You think our lucks gonna turn around now, Winchester. Now that would be a cosmic joke.”

“Spells gotta be cast over an open fire anyways,” Bobby said tucking a gun into the waist band of his jeans.

“The fireplace in the library,” Sam said. Bobby nodded.

Dean sighed, “That is really not as appealing as a ghost proof panic room.” The hunter spent the next few minutes arming themselves, shoving extra ammo into every available pocket before venturing out.

“Cover each other and aim careful. Don’t run outta ammo until I’m done or we’ll all be taco meat,” Bobby grumbled before unlocking the steel door. Sam and Dean took point, Bobby in the middle with spell book and River trailed at the back making sure nothing snuck up on them. The basement seemed and felt empty as they quickly made there way the stairs. A figure sat waiting in the dark at the top of the stairs. Dean halted the group and raised his shotgun.

“Hey, Dean, remember me?” a heavyset, young man with curly hair stared down at them.

Dean and Sam looked at each other. “Ronald, right? With the laser eyes?” Dean said. They had run into this man a few years back while investigating a shifter case. The young man was tin foil hat level paranoid and had convinced himself the shifter was some sort of government conspiracy. Instead of listening to Sam and Dean he had attempted to apprehend the shifter, taking a bank full of people hostage and got himself shot by a SWAT sniper. “Well, wish I could say it’s nice to see you but…”

The man stood up and yelled, “You were supposed to help me! I’m dead because of you! You’re no fucking hero!” A shotgun blasted from behind, striking the spirit. 

Dean turned to River, “What? Are we supposed to be talking to them or sending them back? Let’s go Papa Bear.” River climbed up the stairs and led the men into the library, they quickly laid a salt line around Bobby’s desk and leading back to the fireplace. Bobby gathered his spell supplies and they started a fire in the fireplace. 

“Sam, upstairs in my closet there’s a red hex box wrapped in a cloth. Bring it down,” Bobby began barking orders at the younger hunters. Sam ran up the stairs to retrieve the hex box. 

The spirits of the two little girls that had taken Bobby reappeared causing the temperature in the room to drop and the lights to flicker. “Bobby!” they screamed and floated towards the hunter as he leaned over the fireplace. River blasted them away with her shotgun. “Dean, cutlery drawer in the kitchen it has a false bottom, I need wormwood, opium and hemlock. Hurry up boy!” Bobby yelled as he began drawing the spell sigil onto his desk. River stood in the middle of the room shotgun and iron fire poler at the ready for any more spirits. Dean ran to the kitchen and pulled out several drawers before finding the correct one. He pulled out the false bottom and began pulling out the ingredients Bobby needed. The heavy double doors to the kitchen slammed shut isolating Dean from Bobby and River. 

“Dean!” River yelled into the door, pulling fruitlessly at the door. 

“I’m fine! Keep working!” he hollered over his shoulder. He grabbed the last small bottle labeled “Opium” and turned back towards the shut doors. Victor Henrickson, the FBI agent from Colorado stood before them.

“Hi, Dean,” he said quietly. 

“I know,” Dean began, “ I messed up. We heard about the explosion after we left and I knew. I knew we should’ve stayed and protected you. It’s my fault your dead.”

Victor nodded, “You think we all died in some explosion of white light, Dean?” 

Dean nodded, “We thought…the news.”

“45 minutes Dean. Lilith wanted to have some fun first. Remember Nancy, the virgin? Lilith filleted her skin off. Nancy never stopped screaming. She made us watch.”

Dean shook his head, unshed tears shining in the dim kitchen, “No.”

Victor shook his head, “Yeah, so tell me why someone like you gets a second chance? Why do you deserve it when you’ve caused so much pain.” Victor shoved his freezing hands into Dean’s chest causing Dean to seize up in pain.

“Bobby, how’s it lookin’?” River asked circling the room, “Hi, Corey.” She almost ran into her former partner when he materialized in front of her.

He smiled maliciously down at her, “I know what that shifter did to you. You deserved every second of it you stupid slu-“ River fired her shotgun at his head obliterating him for the moment. A blast echoed from the kitchen and a moment later Sam and Dean threw the kitchen doors open and staggered into the library and handed Bobby the hex box and the ingredients from the kitchen. “You two ok?” River asked glancing at the Winchesters. 

“Yeah,” Sam answered positioning himself in front of the hall entrance. 

“No,” Dean said as he loaded more shells into his shotgun.

River glanced at him, “Quit whining…Hey curly.” Ronald the tubby spirit from earlier was back watching Dean load his gun.

“Ronald, hey man. I thought we were friends,” Dean shoved another shell into his gun.

Ronald smiled, “Yeah, when I was breathing. Now I’m gonna eat you alive.” River’s gun blasted the tubby spirit away. Bobby began muttering the spell behind them. 

A small boy appeared in the room a few feet from River. “Oh, Lucas. Buddy…” River groaned.

“River, you promised! You promised I would be safe!” the little boy raged, “Where were you! You promised.” River shook her head back and forth, shotgun shaking but she couldn’t fire it at the spirit of the child. Dean fired his weapon and the boy blew apart in a cloud of smoke. Bobby’s chanting continued. The windows in the library blew open and the spirits of Meg, Victor and Corey reappeared. River, Sam and Dean each chose a target and began firing. The spirits blew apart when his with the rock salt but reappeared a few seconds later. Appearing in different areas and closer the hunters. Sara and the spirit of her son, Lucas appears behind River.

“Behind you!” Dean yelled as Meg appeared at his side. 

Meg sneered at Dean, “Some hero you are! Look at us! Look what happened to us. This is your fault!” River spun around and quickly fired into the mother and son. Her gun now empty she tossed it to the ground and picked up the fireplace poker she had laid on the couch. River swung the poker at Meg causing her to break apart. Victor sent Sam’s gun flying out of his hands and Dean fired his last shot into the spirit. Before any of them could regroup the spirits materialized again, sending a heavy desk sliding across the room and pinning Sam to the wall. Dean moved towards his brother but Corey shoved him across the room. River swung the iron rod at the spirit and turned back towards Dean helping pull him to his feet. Bobby finished the spell and turned towards the fireplace but grunted in pain as Meg appeared behind him, shoving her spectral hand into his back. Bobby lost his grip on the copper bowl holding the spell ingredients and it slipped from his fingers towards the floor. Dean dove towards the bowl catching it before it spilled. He tossed the mixture into the fire burning in the fireplace causing it to flare a bright blue. A blinding light filled the room and the spirits disintegrated as the light burned out. Bobby fell to his knees behind the desk with another moan.

“Bobby!” River yelled running towards him. She grabbed him under his arm6my and helped him stand as Sam shoved the heavy desk away from him. “You ok?” she asked the older man as Dean grabbed him under the other arm. He nodded weakly. The hunters did an EMF sweep of the house to double check that the spirits had indeed been banished. Satisfied that they wouldn’t be ripped to shreds by angry spirits while they slept they bedded for the night. 

Bobby collapsed in his bed, snores echoing on the upper floor the moment his head hit his pillow. Sam curled up on Bobby’s couch. While River and Dean bunked in Sam’s old room, she hadn’t stepped foot into Dean’s old room in months. Bobby had long since taken down the cribs and nursery furniture but the memories still burned. River woke a few hours after she and Dean had fallen asleep. Dean was gone, his part of the small bed cold. She walked down the quiet hallway, back down the stairs and past Sam’s sleeping form on the sagging couch. Dean sat in the dark kitchen, eye closed and a half empty whiskey bottle in front of him. “Can’t sleep?” River asked quietly, sitting in a chair next to him.

Dean opened his eyes, “Just thinkin’” He told her grabbing for the whiskey bottle. Her fingers wrapped around it first and she brought the cold bottle to her lips. 

She grit her teeth against the burn of the alcohol and then shivered as it reached her stomach. The thin shirt and shorts she had worn to bed did nothing to help ebb the chill in the kitchen. “ ‘bout what? The spirits? What’d they’d say to you?” River rubbed her hands over her arms, watching as Dean pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You first, little miss chatty,” he grabbed the bottle and took a swig.

River sighed, “Well which one? Corey told me it was my fault he was dead. Which I guess in some way it is. It was my decision to go after the shifter in the first place. Told me I deserved everything it did to me. I deserved to die like he did…and then Sara told me I’m fucking useless, never helped anyone and deserved to die…and you saw Lucas.” She took the bottle of amber liquid Dean held out to her and took another swig, “I failed them. I’m a fuck up. I gotta live with their deaths.” 

Dean shook his head sagely and sniffed, “Meg…she was innocent. We-I didn’t even consider what would happen to her when we exorcised that demon. She’s right, I’m no hero. Why would God save me? I don’t deserve another chance.”

“Bullshit, Dean,” River pushed the bottle away from him, “You never deserved to go to Hell. You sold your soul to save your brother…and you are a hero.” She stood up and moved to sit on his lap, legs straddling his and cupped his face in her hands. “You’re my hero. You saved my life in that parking lot,” she peppered lite kisses on his cheeks, “You saved me in that motel room in Philly…you killed my nightmare.” She leaned forward and gently kissed his chapped lips, “My hero.” She kissed him again, needy this time, sucking his bottom lip and running her tongue along it tasting whiskey. He returned the kiss, moving his hands under her thin shirt and running them up and down her sides causing her to shiver under his touch. River ran her fingers through his short auburn hair and rolled her hips in his lap eliciting a low growl from him. She reached her hand between them and pawed his semi-hard erection through his jeans. 

“Fuck, babe.” Dean moaned when she ground herself against him again. Sam snored loudly from the library after Dean’s outburst.

River smiled against his lips, “Shhh…You’re gonna wake up Sam.” Dean moved his lips to her neck licking and sucking at the sensitive skin. She unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down, both adjusting their positions to move the clothing out of the way. His cock sprang up between them and she wrapped her warm hand around it, running it up and down his length causing Dean to flex his hips with each upward stroke. She pulled her hand away causing him to moan in frustration and she smiled again before bringing her hand to her mouth. She spit into her palm and then rubbed it along Dean’s cock. 

“You’re fucking filthy… ,“ Dean hissed as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth when she pushed up on the balls of her feet and shoved her shorts out of the way before lining up his prick with her wet center.

“I know,” she moaned and slowly lowered herself back down, eyes fluttering closed as he filled her completely. She sat still for a moment when she bottomed herself out on his cock and drew an unsteady breath. Dean grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head, dropping it somewhere on the dark kitchen floor. River rolled her hips and ground down, Dean catching her lips with his and drowning out the moan she let escape. 

“Shhh,” he repeated back to her. "You need it as bad as I do. You want me to fuck it all away, huh? Forget for a little while?" She nodded and pushed upwards again, biting her lips not trusting herself to not make too much noise and wake Sam in the next room. Dean grabbed her ass and helped lift her hips with each thrust. The chair creaked loudly after a few more moments of this and Sam muttered again in sleep. “Fuck this. Get up and take your shorts off,” Dean growled in her ear. River pulled herself slowly up and stood on unsteady legs to pull her shorts down. A flutter of wings caused her to jerk her head up suddenly and she took a sharp breath in. Her eyes widened in surprise, staring at a dark corner of the kitchen behind Dean. Dean shot out of the chair, pulling his pants up quickly as he went. 

The trench coated angel, Castiel stood watching them with a bemused half smile, “I apologize for interrupting.” The hunters stood for a moment staring at the intruder before exchanging a glance at each other and sighing. River pulled her discarded shirt back on as Dean walked towards the Angel.

“Yeah we’re gonna have to work on your timing,” Dean muttered. 

“I came to tell you that you did an excellent job with with witnesses,” the Angel told them. 

River stood next to Dean crossing her arms over her chest, “You were hip to what was going down here?”

Castiel nodded, “I was made aware of the situation.”

“Well, thanks for the angelic backup. I almost got my heart ripped outta my chest,” Dean said in an angry whisper.

“Well, you didn’t.”Castiel countered.

“I thought angels were supposed to be guardians you know, fluffy wings, halos. Angels in the Outfield types, not dicks,” Dean continued. 

River let out a low laugh and Dean turned towards her, “Book club, Dean. The Bible’s first on the list of required reading. Angels are not teddy bears. They roll into town yelling 'Fear Not!' while they smite the fuck outta everyone.”

Castiel smiled at her, “Angels are warriors, Dean. I am a soldier of heaven and we had bigger concerns.”

“Nice, well while you and yours had bigger concerns people were getting torn to shreds,” River hissed. Castiel said nothing for a moment. 

“Where is your boss, huh? God, if there is a god, where is he? What’s he waiting for? Mass genocide? Monsters taking over the Earth? The fucking Apocalypse?” Dean said his voice rising.

“There is a God,” Castiel interrupted, “The lord-“

“If you fucking say ‘works in mysterious ways’ I will turn your wings into a feather duster.” River told him lowly. Castiel smirked at her like a cat planning to pounce on a unsuspecting mouse. 

Dean laid his hand gently on her arm, “Was Bobby right? Was the rising of the witnesses a sign of the Apocalypse?” 

Castiel cocked his head and looked between the two humans. “That’s why we’re here. There are big things coming. The rising of the Witnesses is one of the 66 seals.”

“I’m guessing those seals aren’t like the ones that perform at SeaWorld,” Dean said smiling cockily at River. She rolled her eyes and Castiel tilted his head, obviously confused.

“These seals are being broken by Lilith,” Castiel said. 

River stiffened next to Dean at the mention of the demon’s name, “She did the spell. She rose the witnesses.”

The Angel nodded, “Yes and not just here. Twenty other hunters are dead.”

“She picked victims we couldn’t save,” River said quietly, “People that would come after us for vengeance.”

“Lilith has a certain sense of humor,” Castiel replied.

Dean rubbed his hand along his jaw, “Yeah she’s a real barrel of laughs.” He glanced at River as she stared out the window behind Castiel, “…we put those spirits back to rest.”

“It doesn’t matter. The seal is broken.”

“Why break the seals? What’s the point, Castiel?” River asked him.

He leaned back against the sink and took a deep breath, “Think of the seals as locks on a door. Break the locks…”

“What’s on the other side of the door?” Dean asked.

“Lucifer. He will walk free if the 66 seals are broken,” the Angel answered. 

Dean scoffed, “There’s no such thing. Lucifer? That’s just some story they tell baby demons when they misbehave.”

“A few weeks ago you thought there was no such thing as me, Dean,” Castiel said quietly. “Why do you think we are here, walking among you now? For the first time in 2000 years.”

“To stop the Morningstar from rising,” River said quietly. Castiel nodded.

“Well, bang up job so far! Real great work on the Witnesses,” Dean goaded. The air shifted around them, seeming to buzz with electricity. River felt the hairs on her arms and neck stand up and she looked worriedly at the angel. He had moved within inches of Dean’s face his blue eyes blazing with anger. Dean stood stock still and cast his eyes sideways at the Angel.

“Six of my brothers and sisters died this week in the field, fighting to stop Lilith and her work,” Castiel said quietly, “You think the armies of heaven should follow you around? You should show me more respect, Dean Winchester. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in.” Then with another flap of his invisible wings he was gone leaving River and Dean alone in the cold, silent kitchen.


	8. Chapter 8

Ch 8.

Dean, Sam and River left Bobby’s a day later. They caught wind of a haunting near Illinois. The spirit was put to rest relatively quickly and with little collateral damage, minus a few scrapes and bruises for the hunters. “So tired….” River mumbled when they finally checked into their room at the Willow Tree Motel. She peeled off her top layer of clothes, kicked her boots off and climbed under the blankets followed momentarily by Dean. Sam watched as they quickly fell asleep without so much as a mumbled ‘Goodnight’. He sat on his bed fully clothed and waited in the dark motel room. His phone eventually buzzed sometime after 2:00 am and he got up silently, grabbed his jacket and left the two sleeping forms of Dean and River. 

Dean dreamt of blood, pain and screams before jarring himself awake. He sat up and was startled to see the angel, Castiel watching him. “Hello, Dean. What were you dreaming about?” the Angel asked quietly. Dean took a deep breath and looked behind him, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of River’s chest. “Her dreams are quite peaceful at the moment. She won’t wake.”  
“You get your jollies watching people sleep?” Dean muttered rubbing his eyes free of lingering sleep, “What do you want?“ 

“Listen to me,” Castiel said, “You have to stop it.”

“Stop what?” Dean asked. The Angel tilted his head and touched two fingers to Dean’s forehead. Dean disappeared from the motel room without a sound. Castiel remained in the room silently watching the woman sleep, watching her dream play out. Her thoughts were usually muddled and mostly hidden from him, a gift or trick he had yet to figure out, but she was unable to hide her dreams from the Angel. He watched as the peaceful dream of her and Dean laying in bed laughing at some stupid tv show were melting into a nightmare of teeth and screams. River turned over in her sleep reaching out to the empty spot where Dean had been. Her brow furrowed and she curled in on her self still sleeping. Castiel disappeared from the room a moment later in a flutter of wings. 

The clock on the nightstand clicked and Dean sat up in bed. He was back where he started, laying in the lumpy motel bed next to River, who still slept . He noticed Castiel standing at the foot of the bed, “I couldn’t stop it. She still made the deal… she still died in that nursery didn’t she?” 

Castiel nodded, “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Dean. You couldn’t have stopped it.”

Dean stood up slowly, “What?”

“You cannot change destiny,” Castiel said. “All roads, all paths lead to the same destination.”

“Why send me back? If I couldn’t change anything, why?” Dean asked.

“For the truth. Now you know as much as we do.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean yelled. River finally stirred and sat up groggily on one elbow, wiping a mix of tears and sweat off her face. Castiel glanced down, they followed his line of sight and noticed for the first time Sam’s bed was empty and fully made.

“What’s going on? Where’s Sam?” River asked confused.

“We know what Azazel did to your brother. We just don’t know why. All the trouble and planning Azazel went through to cover his tracks; what’s his endgame?” Castiel continued.

“Where’s my brother?” Dean asked.

“425 Waterman,” the Angel answered. River kicked the blankets off and quickly pulled her jeans and boots on while Dean threw on his jacket. “If you don’t stop him, we will.” Castiel called ominously as the hunters left the room. Dean paused, glancing back at the blue eyed Angel before climbing into Baby after River. She yawned and stretched as she piled her hair into a messy knot on top of her head.

“So what the hells going on now, D?” River asked as she pulled a gun out of her duffle bag. Dean let out a deep breath and pushed down on the accelerator causing the Impala to surge forward. 

“Castiel sent me back in time to before I was born,” he glanced over at his girlfriend, she raised her eyebrows but remained silent. “I met my mom and dad…my mom was a freakin’ hunter.”

“No fucking way,” River smiled.

“I know right? But she was. Her family, my family we were hunters from way back. God, she was a badass and so beautiful and smart,” he smiled. “You’d love her, Riv. She reminded me of you; a beautiful monster killing badass.” 

River looked at him and blushed, “But why did he send you back? Winchester family reunion?” Dean startled, remembering the conversation he had with Alastair and the surprise waiting on the silver platter. A sudden urge to scream at her reared up but there was no way River knew anything about Alastair. 

He swallowed down the anger and cleared his throat, “My mom…she made a deal with Azazel, old yellow eyes himself. He killed her parents, my grandparents, Samuel and Deana Campbell and my dad.” 

“Azazel killed John? Turn right at the next light,” she glanced at her phone, reading off the directions to Dean as he continued the story. 

“Yeah, snapped his neck. Mom made a deal to bring him back in exchange for…whatever he did to Sam,” Dean found a spot well away from 425 Waterman and parked the car. “Castiel said the Angels wanted me to see the whole story, how it all started and now-now here we are. The fuck is that kid up to?” 

“He’s not a kid, Dean. He’s a giant grown-ass man,” River said quietly as they walked to the dark warehouse, “Wait, did you say your grandma’s name was Deanna? You were named after your grandma. That’s cute. I always figured you were named after James Dean or something.” The sounds of snarls and yells echoed off the cold cement walls. The hunters pulled out their guns and walked silently towards the sounds. 

Sam’s voice rang out, “Where’s Lilith?” He stood in a dark room, a devils trap painted on the floor and a sweaty, dirty man chained to a chair in the center. River and Dean hid in shadows in a small alcove behind Sam and out of sight of the trapped demon.

“Kiss my ass, hunter,” the man snarled. River elbowed Dean and pointed to a figure obscured by Sam’s shadow. 

“I’d watch myself if I were you,” Sam warned.

The demon in the chair sat forward, pulling at the chains, “Why? Because you’re some big time hero, Sam Winchester?” The demons eyes shifted to black and he looked at the shadowed figure, “And yet here you are slutting around with some demon whore.” Sam shifted his weight and the slight change in position gave a line of sight to the figure behind him. River recognized the woman; she was the same gorgeous, brown haired woman that had greeted her, Dean and Bobby back in Sam’s motel room weeks ago. “Tell me about those months without your brother. All the things you do in that dark with that demon cunt.” Dean stiffened next to River, the muscles in his jaw twitching.

“Watch your mouth,” Sam said quietly. The short brunette next to him smirked but didn’t move. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed and looked very much like she had not a care in the world.

“Tell me, hero, how’s her pretty demon lips feel wrapped around your self-righteous cock?” Sam took a half step towards the demon with his hand outstretched. “What are you doing?” the demon struggled harder against the chains and began gagging and coughing. Thick, oily black smoke came hurling out of the man’s mouth and congealed on the floor at Sam’s boots. The smoke curdled into a thick puddle before sinking into the cement floor leaving behind nothing but smoldering ashes. Dean looked down at River as she turned her shocked blue eyes up to him and chewed her bottom lip.

Sam rushed towards the figure still chained to the chair and checked for a pulse, “He’s alive! And no headache this time. I feel great.”

The woman standing next to Sam smiled and rested a hand on his shoulder, “Good job, Sam. You’re becoming a real pro at this.” Dean surged out of the shadows and towards his younger brother.

“Yeah, great job Sammy!” Dean yelled, “Anything you might want to tell me?” River followed quietly behind him, her knuckles white from grasping her gun tightly. 

“Dean, hold on! Let-“ Sam began. 

Dean shook his head, “You gonna say ‘let me explain’? How are you gonna explain this?” he pointed at the man in chair and the woman standing behind him. “How about you start with who this is?”

“Good to see you again, Dean,” she said sweetly, “River, sorry to hear about the babies. Lilith’s a real nasty bi-“ 

River raised her gun and tried to shoot the woman. Sam rushed forward and shoved the gun up at the last second, yelling “River, no!” the bullet flying up into the ceiling and showering them with flecks of plaster.

 

“Dean, it’s Ruby!” River yelled, struggling to pull her gun away from the much taller man. Dean pushed past Sam and grabbed Ruby by the shoulders, shoving her back into the wall. He pulled the demon killing knife out of his jacket and raised it, ready to strike down the woman. Sam pushed River away causing her to stumble back as he rushed forward and grabbed the knife his brother held. Ruby took the opening to grab Dean by the throat and shove him up against the wall.

“Dean, stop! “ Sam yelled, “Ruby, let him go!” The demon glanced at Sam then released Dean.

“Well aren’t you a little obedient bitch?” Dean grunted, rubbing his throat. Ruby sneered at the green eyed hunter and stepped towards him again. 

“Ruby! Enough, he’s hurt!” Sam nodded towards the formerly possessed man. River had limped over to unchain the man in the chair and was checking him for obvious injuries, she murmured to him quietly and got staggered responses back. Ruby nodded at Sam and leaned down next to River. 

“Fuck off, demon” she hissed, “You’re not touching him.”

“I can rip your arms off and drop you both off at the ER if you’d like,” Ruby replied quietly. She wrapped the man’s arm around her shoulders and helped him walk out the building. River turned around, keeping her eyes averted from Sam and holding her hand out to Dean.

“Dean!” Sam yelled, “Dean come on!” Dean ignored his brother and grasped River’s outstretched hand and the two left the dark building.

They drove in silence for a few hours around the sleeping city before Dean finally returned to their motel. “Stay in the car, I’ll get our stuff.” Dean barked before climbing out of the car. She watched him throw open the motel room door then slam it shut, muffled yelling soon followed. She rubbed her hands down her face and groaned, “I’m so fucking exhausted.” She muttered to herself.

“How about we go on a relaxing vacation to Bora Bora?” A smiling, honey coated voice cooed from beside her.

River jerked her head and looked into the whiskey colored eyes of her friend, the Trickster Loki aka- “Gabriel! What in gods name are you doing here?” she whispered, frantically looking around the parking lot.

“Hey, don’t take my dad’s name in vain,” he said smiling, “How’ve you been sugar cookie?”

“I’m fine, everything is fucking fabulous,” she muttered. “You know the angels are probably following us right? They could be hiding out there somewhere. They see you and the millennia old gig as Loki is up.”

He scoffed at her and pulled a bag of Reese’s Pieces out of his jacket pocket. He offered her some and she took a handful and started munching on them. Listening to the muffled arguing still echoing from the room.

“I don’t like lying to Dean, he should know you helped me. Know what you really are.” River continued when the yelling dissipated for the moment.

“You tell Dean, tell anyone and I’m dead, you’re dead, the Winchesters are dead. I’m a deserter, lollipop, disobeyed the old man and I’ll be put to death.”

River rubbed her fingers along the small lollipop pendant around her neck. “I met your brother,” she said after a moment. 

Gabriel looked over at her and raised his eyebrows, “Yeah, which one?”

“Castiel.”

“Cassie? I taught him how to fly. How’s that kid doing?” 

“He’s uh, got horrible timing and no sense of humor.” River laughed and tossed another piece of candy in her mouth, “Gabe, did you know Lilith’s trying to break your big bro out of the penalty box?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Baby mama drama, lemon drop. Nothin’ new.” River opened her mouth to say something else but the level of yelling in the room reached a new octave and the sound of something shattering tore her attention from her friend.

“Shit!” she muttered and rushed out of the car and into the room. Gabriel disappeared with a huff a second later. 

“If I didn’t know you, Sammy, I’d want to hunt you!” Dean yelled at his younger brother. River surveyed the damage done to the room, pictures hung askew on the wall, a lamp lay shattered on the floor. Sam had tears in his eyes and a swelling lip and Dean stood shaking with barely controlled rage.

“You were gone Dean!” Sam said quietly, “I was here and I had to keep fighting without you. This works, what I’m doing. What I’m able to do with my powers, I’m saving people.” 

Dean stepped back and ran his hand tiredly over his face, “If your powers are so great, why couldn’t you tell me about them? And why did a freaking angel tell me to stop you?”

“What?” Sam said shocked.

“Yeah, brother. Cas told me if I didn’t stop you then he would,” Dean paused and took a shaking breath, “You know what that means, Sam. It means God doesn’t want you doing this. So are you gonna stand there and tell me everything is all good?” Sam didn’t get the chance to answer because his phone rang. Dean turned away from his brother and walked towards River.

“Hey, Travis, Hey.Yeah. Now’s not a great time actually…yeah ok. Where?” Sam walked to the small table and quickly wrote down an address. “Carthage, Missouri. Ok, yeah we’ll be there.” Sam relayed the case details to Dean and River. A former associate of their father’s had caught wind of a possible Rugaru and requested back up from the younger Winchesters. The three hunters agreed to take the case and headed to Missouri. Dean told his younger brother about his angelic time travel experience while River dozed in the backseat.

“Our parents, our grandparents all murdered and for what, Dean?” Sam said exasperated, “So yellow eyes could break into my nursery and bleed into my mouth?” 

Dean looked at his younger brother, “I never said anything about the demon blood Sammy. How long have you known about that?”

Sam pursed his lips and ran his fingers through his hair, “ ‘bout a year. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.”

“Yeah you’ve been sayin’ that a lot.” Dean murmured. River’s phone rang loudly from the backseat and she cursed loudly, fumbling with the phone in her half asleep state.

“Hola, Levi,” she mumbled into the phone, eyes still closed. “No, why would I be sleeping its only 4:30 am on a random Wednesday.” She sat up suddenly, “A Senkia, really? In Doylestown. Hell yeah I can be there, we’re headed to Carthage for a Rugaru. The boys can deal with that nasty and I’ll borrow a car at the next pit stop and pick your non-driving ass up and we’ll play Buffy. You get to be Giles…see ya soon.” She hung up the phone and stretched.

“Where the hell do you think you're going?” Dean asked over his shoulder.

“My Amish boyfriend has a case he would like some assistance on,” she said sweetly. “A Senkia. Two families are already dead and he thinks he’s got a lead on where it’s gonna hit next.”

“I don’t want you being so far away, come on Riv with all the shit going down. Levi can get someone else,” Dean said.

“I’m going Dean, you two have some shit to work out anyways. I’ll call you when the jobs done, it shouldn’t take more than three days, a week at most.” 

“The first sign things might go sideways…” Dean stood in front of the door to the small, nondescript car River had boosted from an over night parking lot. He stared down at the shorter red head in front of him; she tapped her foot impatiently on the gravel. “I threw a couple flare guns in your bag. Senkia’s don’t like fire.”

“I know Dean and I’ll try not to die. I’ll call you and I’ll try to keep my raw sexual attraction to Levi in check,” she smiled and stood on her toes to kiss him. “See ya soon, hot stuff.” She kissed him deeply again, pulling at his lower lip in the way she knew drove him crazy, “I need to hit the road and so do you.” He stepped away from the door and she climbed in. She waved to Sam and left the Winchesters in the rear view mirror.

“She’ll be fine, Dean. She’s hunted worse things than a Senkia on her own and she’ll be with Levi. He won’t let anything happen to her,” Sam told his older brother as the got back into Baby to continue on their way to Carthage. Dean nodded but said nothing, instead turning up the stereo to nearly deafening volume and blasting AC/DC.


	9. Chapter 9

Ch 9

“Levi! Shoot it! Shoot it!” River screamed at the bearded, middle aged man. He stood stock still, flare gun hanging loosely by his side and he murmured silently. The Senkia had been harder to track then they had hoped, a three day case had quickly grown into nearly a week. 

Senkia’s almost always go after their own blood line, ripping and tearing and killing until nothing remains. They were born from a victim murdered in a fit of passion during a full moon. Finding the suspected Senkia’s identity had been the easiest step, Mr. Henry Ash had been murdered in an apparent robbery gone wrong the previous full moon. His dental records matched the bite marks found in the victims remains; a fact the medical examiner had apparently glossed over, somehow attempting to blame the deaths on attacks from rabid animals. Seven people were dead, more surely to follow tonight if they were unable to find the monster. The murdered man turned thing had two possible targets left. His elderly cousins across town or his brothers family. The decision to stay and watch the young family was made, River and Levi hoping they didn’t leave the others to a gruesome death. 

Now here she was, frantically screaming at her pacifist friend as the alabaster skinned thing lurched towards him. The Senkia had been unable to break into his former brothers home thanks to the warding she and Levi had placed and turned its anger and hunger on the hunter and healer. Its claw like fingers were inches from Levi’s throat and yet he continued to calmy pray. “Son of a bitch,” River muttered angrily as she picked up her speed. She ran shoulder first into the former Mr. Ash and tackled him to the ground line backer style. The man’s pale face was shrunken, the skin peeling with decay, it hissed and snapped it’s blackened teeth. River punched it in the temple and fished out a bottle of lighter fluid from her jacket. She half jumped, half stumbled back while squirting the fluid on the monster as it shrieked. Levi prayed a final verse and the thing erupted into flames, screaming in a high pitched wail until the fire consumed it. 

“What the ever living fuck, Levi!” River screamed. “What the hell was that? Why didn’t you just shot the damn thing?”

“River, I prayed to make sure that poor man’s soul would be granted entry to heaven and the monster within would be banished. The immolation spell I used was far more effective then your flare gun.” He gathered his straw hat from the ground where it had fallen. “Also, I believe you should have checked in with Dean over an hour ago. He’s probably worried.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that Levi. Let’s just get the hell out of here so I can take you home,” River grumbled. After burying Mr. Ash’s remains, the hunter and her healer friend headed back to Hanover. “Hey, hot stuff, how the Rugaru go?” she finally called Dean sometime around 2:00 am. 

“Not great. Travis is dead. Can’t say he didn’t deserve but…” Dean’s voice trailed off, “We got a case in Canonsberg we’re headed to. Meet you there in two days? Ya know unless you’re too busy..”

“Geez your pissy tonight,” River said sarcastically, “Canonsberg sounds great. Maybe we could even get our own room?” 

Dean sighed loudly and River could hear the distinct sound of a bottle clanking against the phone as he took a long swallow, “Yeah, maybe…sure. I guess we’ll see what we can get when we get there.” 

“Uhm, ok. Yeah, don’t sound too excited about getting laid or anything….I’m excited,” she smiled, waiting for a laugh, a huff, anything that gave a sign that Dean was actually listening. “Ok then. See you in a couple of days. Love you.”

“Yeah. See you in a couple of days.” Dean hung up and River grasped the phone to her chest. The brief phone calls she and Dean had shared over the last seven days had ended with him becoming more and more irritable. She closed her eyes and tried to relax enough to sleep on Levi’s small, uncomfortable couch. River finally drifted off to sleep only to be awoken by her ringing phone close to dawn. She fumbled in the dark to answer it with sleep numbed fingers, “ Mmmm,” was the only sound she was able to vocalize. 

“River? Sweetheart, you ok?” Bobby’s worried voice echoed over the phone.

“Uhhh…fu-Bobby. Jesus, how come no one sleeps anymore?” River muttered as she sat up and stretched. “What’s up, Papa Bear?”

“Hey, girl I gotta case I need you to check out,” his gruff voice softened, “Saginaw, Michigan. Demonic omens up the wazoo. I’m worried it might be one of the seal things the Angel warned you and Dean about.”

River groaned in annoyance, “ Michigan, Bobby? Come on, I told Dean I’d meet him and Sam up in Canonsberg; it’s like four hours from Levi’s. Saginaw is two states in the wrong direction.”

“I know that, the boys can deal with the case in Canonsberg. I need you to go to Michigan, just check it out, please?” 

River relented and took the info Bobby had gathered. Earthquakes, bloody hail storms and an sudden increase in missing persons and violent crimes. All apparently centered in a 10 mile radius. She gathered her supplies and left Levi’s small, warm home with out waking the healer. She waited to call Dean until she passed Akron.

“Hey, Princess. We just passed Pittsburg,” Dean sounded like he was in a much better mood, a mood that was about to be ruined.

“Oh yeah, that’s great you guys are making great time,” River took a deep breath, steeling herself for the shitstorm that was coming her way, “I uh, I just passed Akron.” She laughed nervously.

“I’m sorry, the years of guns and loud music seem to be fucking with my hearing cause it sounded like you said you were driving past Akron, as in Ohio.”

“Yeah, yep, mmhmm, that would be the one,” she cleared her throat, “Bobby called me with a case. Demonic omens, maybe a seal. Asked me to check it out, he even said ‘please’. So how could I refuse?” Dean spent the next five minutes yelling into the phone how she could have refused, Sam’s voice trying to break through his brothers expletive raced rant only to be shot down.

“The fuck is your problem anyways, River? You run off to Levi to work some Senkia job and now Michigan for demons?” Dean demanded.

She had remained quiet through Dean’s yelling, letting him vent his anger and frustration over the phone and feeling sorry that Sam would have to deal with his sour mood in the car. “I don’t have a problem, Dean. In case you’ve forgotten I have a fucking job to do!” she yelled back, “Now I know you may have forgotten this because I spent a good chunk of our time together pregnant but I am a fucking hunter. I go where the case is, just like you and Sam.” She heard Dean’s humorless laugh.

“Is that so? Well, you go then. Me and Sammy are gonna go gank a vampire chompin’ on tourists and enjoy Oktoberfest. You call me when you wanna meet up, sweetheart.” Dean disconnected the phone and tossed it onto the seat between him and his younger brother.

“Wow, Dean,” Sam stared at his brother and shook his head, “Why are you giving her such a hard time? There’s a lot of shit going down in case you haven’t noticed, kind of an all hands on deck situation. Riv’s a hunter and she used to work alone before you two…” he made a motion with his hands and shrugged.

“Before what? Started fucking? I knocked her up? What?” Dean griped the steering wheel, angry at what exactly he wasn’t sure. “She’s…I want…Fuck, I don’t know what I want,” he muttered.

Hundreds of miles away and driving in the opposite direction, River muttered “Balls,” angrily to herself and tossed her own phone on the empty seat besides her.

River arrived in Saginaw before sundown and immediately began following up on Bobby’s hastily gathered intel. “The fuck are you gonna do if it is demons?” she muttered to herself for the third time. She took another sip of her coffee and cursed the slow wifi, how the hell did Sam always get a perfect connection anyways? Witchcraft? Mutant powers?

“Watcha’ drinkin’ ?” Gabriel appeared at the table across from her. 

“Black coffee,” she answered, not looking up from the computer screen, “Here.” She pushed a cup towards the blonde man, “Don’t know what it is. Just asked for the sweetest thing on the menu and added chocolate sauce.” Gabe made an approving click of his tongue and took a sip.

“Mmmm, Sugar Cookie, you order a damn fine coffee,” he took another long slurp and eyed the barista. He waggled his eyebrows at her and she giggled.

River rolled her eyes at his antics, “Do me a favor, fuck the waitress later. Is there something about to go down in this town or am I waisting my fucking time?” He pulled his eyes away from the girl behind the counter and looked back at the surly red head. 

He closed his eyes for a moment, “Yeah there’s a seal here and some wannabe big wig demon, Flaga, she needs a big blood sacrifice of course. No Angels here, besides me, I mean.” He smirked.

“Can’t you just go lay some angelic smackdown on the bitch, then?” River asked quietly.

“Nope, sure can’t lemon drop. Had my fill of this BS back home. I’m gonna go make friends with the barista, unless you wanna come home with me?” Gabriel raised one eyebrow lasciviously. 

She shook her head and packed up her laptop, “Make good choices, Gabe.” River walked out of the coffee shop and into the overcast morning. The sky was a dark gray color and threatened rain or thunder storms. She sat in her stolen car for a moment, weighing her options. Leave town, let the seal fall and innocent people be maimed and murdered, meet up with the Winchesters, hope that sex and booze would put Dean in a tolerable mood, drive around and maybe run into the demon and probably die while trying to trap and exorcise it or summon Castiel and hope he didn’t smite her out of principle. 

“The Angel it is,” she muttered to herself. She found a small New Age shop on the main street and was able to buy the ingredients needed for the summoning spell. “Blessed be,” the hippie behind the counter smiled handing River her bag of spell ingredients. Next stop was finding a private place to summon Castiel, remembering his rather dramatic first entrance. She settled on a abandoned building and carried in her supplies for the spell. “Fuck, I’m gonna die. He’s gonna turn me into a pillar of salt,” River took a deep breath, considered calling Dean to check in and let him know she might be getting her eyes burned out of her head in a few moments.

Meanwhile Dean and Sam, well mostly Dean, were making friends with a couple bar maids at Oktoberfest and at a loss of what kind of monster they were hunting. The first victim had been bitten and it’s blood drained, yet the normal vampiric marks, two large rows of teeth punctures were missing. In it’s place were two small holes on the neck. The next victim had apparently been ripped apart by a rabid wolf. “What the hell, Sammy? First vic some sort of vampire with only two fangs and the second a werewolf that doesn’t touch the heart?” Dean mused, they had just left the medical examiners and still wore their Fed suits, “Maybe some sort of psycho, goth wannabe?” He watched the blonde behind the bar pouring his beers. “Maybe not our kind of case, but who cares ? It’s Oktoberfest, beers, brats and bar wenches.” 

Sam watched his brother, “Pretty sure women don’t like the whole bar wench thing and what about River. You on a free weekend pass or something?”

Dean smirked, “What ever happens at Oktoberfest stays at Oktoberfest, Sammy. And she’s busy working remember?” The blonde bar wench brought Dean’s mug of beer. 

“What can I get you, Agent?” the blonde asked Sam. 

“Oh he doesn’t drink, he’s a Christian Scientist. Doesn’t even take aspirin. Real drag during stakeouts.” Dean cut in.

Sam smiled and rolled his eyes; the waitress laughed, “You’re funny.” 

“I’m a lot more than that,” Dean pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, “I’d love to show you. What time you off?” The waitress wrote her number on a napkin and walked away from their table.

“River’s gonna-“ Sam began. 

“What happens at Oktoberfest stays at Oktoberfest, Sam.”

River laid a salt circle around her altar and kneeled in front of it, “Here do I Light the first lamp of the spirit. May it’s light reach out across the barriers from this world to the next. Here do I humbly summon the angel Castiel.” She lit the first candle and waited. “Here do I light the second lamp of the spirit. May it’s light reach out and guide you to my presence. Here do I humbly summon the angel Castiel.”

“Why have you summoned me, River? Where is Dean?” the trench coated angel appeared before her. She let out a startled breath and blew the candles out.

“Dean…Dean’s working a case in Pennsylvania with his brother,” she stood and brushed her jeans off, “I uhh, I…think there’s a seal here. There’s a demon named, Flaga, she needs a blood sacrifice or something.”

“And how did you come by this information?” Castiel asked staring at her with steel blue eyes. 

Her eyes drifted above and behind him, “Bobby, the old guy in the hat, he keeps an eye on freaky shit. This towns had a run of nasty omens, sent me to check it out…you seem tense, twitchy.” 

He slowly turned towards her and she took an involuntary step back, “You can see my wings. What else can you see?”

“You have a light…a faint glow under your skin. Blue, like your eyes,” she took another shaky breath.

He smiled, “I command two garrisons of Angels. Their only duty at the moment is to find the seals and stop them from being broken. And here you are one small, insignificant human has found one for us. Thank you.” He disappeared a moment later in a flutter of wings. 

River ran her fingers through her hair and tried to calm her ragged heart beat. She left the building and climbed back into her stolen car. The sky outside had grown darker, bright flashes of lightening streaking back and forth. She headed out of town and was crossing the bridge over the Shiawassee River when the sky opened up in a swirling vortex of white clouds. A giant, blindingly bright bolt of lightening seared out of the sky and struck a stone building on the waters edge. The cars on the bridge came to a skidding halt, people climbing awestruck out of their vehicles to stare at the giant scorched crater that had been created by the flash of lightening. River turned her music up and carefully guided her car around those that had stopped on the bridge.

She drove most of the night, afraid to see what the angels had had to do in order to save the seal. She finally checked the Saginaw news and found that the great stone building that had been obliterated was a museum housing Native American artifacts. The buildings destruction was being blamed on a combination of a main line gas break and a freak lightening strike. Thirty two people were confirmed dead and nothing remained of the priceless Native American collection. “Hey hot stuff, Sammy said you went native and started wearing lederhosen,” River stopped at a truck stop the next morning to check in.

Dean watched as the blonde bar tender walked away, glancing over her shoulder once and smiling. “Yeah, just call me Frtiz,” he said climbing into the front seat of his black car. Sam watched his older brother as he absently rubbed the dark love bite on his neck. “How’d your case go?”

“I…I’m still not sure. What was I supposed to do on my own anyways? I don’t have anything that can a kill a demon,” she sighed. “You want to come pick me up? I’ll rent us a room for a few days of R and R before we pick up a new case?”

“Yeah, princess. Sound good,” he hung up the phone and glanced at his brother. Sam stared at him with his classic bitchface, jaw set and eyes narrowed.

“Have a good night, Dean?” Sam asked. “Sleep well?”

Dean started the car and remained silent, an uneasy feeling of guilt settling in his stomach. “I don’t need your shit, Sammy. We ain’t married and she doesn’t have to find out about this. ”


	10. Chapter 10

10.

River lay on the lumpy motel bed, channel surfing and trying to not let the anxiety that had settled in her chest since her decision to notify Castiel of the seal in Saginaw invade the rest of her body. She was slowly losing the battle with her emotions and racing mind, her fingers twitched subconsciously as did her feet and she could hear the blood beginning to pound in her ears. A full blown panic attack was rearing it’s ugly head and she concentrated on her breathing, slow purposefully breaths trying to ignore the tingling sensations around her mouth and fingers. The burden of hiding Gabriel’s existence, trying to create a stable facade for Dean and the growing worry about Sam was wearing thin her already tenuous grip on her mental health .

Just as she felt her heart rate beginning to slow and the feeling was returning to her tingling fingers she heard the grumbling roar of Dean’s pride and joy. “Fuck, keep your shit together. Dean went to hell remember,” she angrily muttered to herself. She wiped her sweaty palms on her leggings and opened the door before Dean could knock. “Hey, sexy,” she’d never get tired of those candy apple green eyes staring back at her. “Hey, Sammy.” Sam stood behind his brother and smiled, his hazel eyes quickly darting away. “Here’s your room key.” She tossed the key to Sam and turned her attention back to Dean, “Fuck, I missed you.” She wrapped her hands in Deans jacket and gently tugged him inside her room, he kicked the door shut while simultaneously pulling his jacket off. River grabbed at his shirts while attacking his full lips with her own. They broke apart only long enough to pull each others shirts off. “Shit, Dean, what happened?” she ran her fingers lightly over the purple marks on his neck. He pulled her fingers away and brought them to his lips.

“You should see the other guy…well whats left of him,” he said smirking.

Sam entered his tacky, lime green motel room; he noticed a full bottle of Hunter’s Helper aka Whiskey on the table and brand new sound canceling headphones. He heard River’s laugh from the next room and quickly understood the headphones. “God damn it, Dean,” he muttered angrily twisting the bottle of whiskey open. A heavy thump echoed against the wall followed by a moan and more hollow thumping as the headboard banged against the wall. Sam walked back to the table and put on his new headphones. 

“Mmmm, pancakes,” River murmured happily as the plate of banana pancakes was set in front of her. The trio had left the crappy motel and headed to a local diner for breakfast. Sam had his laptop open and was skimming through interesting news stories while Dean and River tried each other’s breakfast.

“No, I don’t want any fucking bacon, Winchester.” River disgustedly pushed the piece of fired meat out of her face, “Pigs are beautiful, socially intelligent animals. You could learn a thing or two from them.”

Dean snorted, “But they taste so damn good.” 

“So, I think I got a case,” Sam finally said. “Guy eating Halloween candy and swallows razor blades, rips his insides to ribbons and bleeds out on his kitchen floor.”

“Hmm, sounds gross. Let’s check it out,” River said as she finished her third cup of coffee, “Lemme pee and we can get the hell out of here.” She kissed Dean on the cheek and slid out of the booth heading towards the restroom sign at the back of the restaurant. The waitress came to their booth a moment later and dropped the check off, giving Dean an appreciative smile and earning one in return.

Sam glanced over his laptop at his brother, “Really, dude?” He stood up from the table and grabbed his laptop and met River at the door. 

Dean shrugged his shoulders and threw a couple bills on the table to cover their tab. “You only live once, Sammy. Or not so much in our case. I guess.” The trio of hunters drove through the night and half the next day and arrived in Colorado the day before Halloween.

“So, how many razor blades did they find?” River stood in the kitchen flanked by Sam, interviewing the dead mans wife while Dean checked for clues. 

The woman wiped her eyes, “He swallowed three and one…one was stuck in his throat.” She took a deep breath and glanced at the laughing baby in the playpen. “How does something like that even happen? I mean I’ve heard the urban legends but…” She glanced at Dean as he kneeled in front of the stove. “The candy was never in the stove.”

“We just have to be thorough, Mrs. Wallace,” Sam said gently, we’re just checking all leads.” River smiled at her and glanced behind her, watching as Dean stood up and flashed the hex bag he found shoved behind the fridge.

“Is there anyone that you can think of that would want to harm your husband?” River asked, “Any one with a grudge, maybe?”

“What?” Mrs. Wallace asked stunned, “I don’t-“

“Neighbors,” Sam said, “A woman perhaps?”

“What? Like an affair? Are you…what are you saying?” she shouted angrily.

“M’am, relax. My partner didn’t mean anything,” River said stepping in front of Sam and ushering the woman towards her table. “We just need to be sure.”

“No, don’t you think if someone wanted to kill my husband they would find a better way then razor blades in candy that my husband might eat?”

“Ok, ok. Thank you for patience with our questions. If you think of anything,” River glanced at Dean who pulled out a business card, “Call us please. Anytime day or night.” The hunters left the house and headed for their motel.

River sat on the floor in their room, dissecting the hex bag while Sam investigated the possible meanings behind the contents. “What the hell is this?” River held up some dried herb.

Dean came back from his food run, shoving candy in his face and murmuring happily. “How much candy have you had, Dean?” River asked as he sat on the couch next to his brother. 

“Shut up, it’s Halloween,” he said shoving another piece of candy in his mouth. 

“Every day is Halloween for us, Dean,” Sam said.

“Find anything interesting?” Dean asked.

“Well, definitely a hex bag,” River said, snagging a piece of chocolate from Dean’s hand, “And this coin is Celtic,” she picked up a tarnished coin from the bag and handed it to Dean, “ it’s legit, not a knockoff and at least, what do you think, Sam, at least 600 years old?”

Sam nodded and picked up the green herb that River had shown him, “And this is Goldthread. It’s been extinct for at least 200 hundred years.” 

Dean raised his eyebrows, “And this?” He picked up a blackened stub of something.

“That’s a metacarpal bone of an infant,” River told him, Dean dropped the bone disgustedly and wiped his fingers on Sam’s jeans.

“Thanks dude, Relax its at least a hundred years old.”

“Witches, skeevy nasty…” Dean muttered.

“Yeah, well it takes real power to make a hex bag like this. More mojo than I’ve seen in a while,” River sighed, “You find anything on Wallace?”

“Nope, guy was vanilla. Married to his high school sweetheart, happy life, happy marriage. Never even had a parking ticket. Can’t find a damn reason someone would want him dead.” 

Across town a group of bored High schoolers were attempting to throw a Halloween party. The music sucked and so did everyone’s costumes, the usual grouping of slutty versions of fairy tale characters and guys wearing “This is my costume” t-shirts. People were filtering in and out, mostly out once they realized they couldn’t break into the triple locked alcohol cabinet. 

“Come one, Becka, lets bounce and go TP someones house,” a young woman dressed as a slutty nurse told her friend, Becka, a slutty Dorothy of Oz.

“Not yet, Jenny. We haven’t even played any games,” Becka told her. A small group of people were gathered around a large bucket and bobbing for apples. The girls waited in line to play the childish game, laughing as people splashed their faces in the water and yelled triumphantly when they were able to gather an apple with nothing but their teeth.

“Your turn Jenny!” Becka yelled happily, taking a bite out of her apple. 

Jenny gingerly got on her knees in front of the giant tub and glared at her friend, “My mascara better not get ruined with this dumb game.” She leaned forward and tried to catch an apple with her teeth, each time she got close the apples would float away. She got more and more annoyed about to give up when she felt something pushing at her head, shoving her face down into the water. She tried screaming but got a mouthful of water, the water began to bubble and boil causing her to flail her legs. Her arms were trapped by the same invisible force and she couldn’t pull herself free of the scalding water. Becka and the others finally caught on to her struggles and tried to free her from the boiling tub.

“Emergency personnel, please report to 475 Wicker street, we have reports of a possible scalding injury at a Halloween party…” the police scanner open on Sam’s laptop squawked. The three hunters sat at the table enjoying their take out dinner, they stopped and listened to the report again before deciding this was a possible lead. Sam and Dean changed into their suits to check out the scene while River stayed behind to check Witch lore. 

They arrived at the home to find ambulances and police cars parked haphazardly alone the street and yard. Becka was giving a report to a uniformed officer. Sam walked around the basement where the party had been held, checking under couch cushions and furniture while Dean interviewed the witnesses. The young woman, Becka, had never heard of Mr. Luke Wallace, the man that ate razorblades and Sam found a hex bag tucked into the cushions of the couch. “Shit,” he muttered standing up and showing it to Dean. 

“I don’t get it, I can’t find anything on these vics that would lead to bitchcraft grudges,” Dean muttered from behind his laptop screen, Sam glanced up from his own screen “Ditto.”

River sat on the bed reading an old book and sat forward, “Maybe it’s not about grudges.”

“Wow, how insightful. Take you all night to come up with that?” Dean said sarcastically turning back to his computer. 

River stopped and glanced between him and Sam, “Umm, ok. I mean I think it’s a spell. Listen this book says something about three blood sacrifices over three days, the last before midnight on the last day of the final harvest.”

“When’s the last day of the final harvest?” Sam asked.

“Well, according to the Celtic calendar it’s October 31st,” River set the book in front of the brothers so they could read the passage.

“Halloween. Great, so what’s the blood sacrifices for?” Dean asked his tone softer.

River shrugged her shoulders, “From what I can tell, the witch is summoning a demon. Samhain.”

Sam nodded and let out a long breath, Dean glanced at him quizzically. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

“Dean, Samhain is the origin of Halloween. The ancient Celts believed October 31st was the one night a year the veil between the living and the dead was the thinnest.”

River smiled at him, “They believed the spirits could cross over to our side, led by Samhain. Thats why they wore masks and strange costumes, they hoped to confuse the evil spirits, tricking them into thinking they were one of them. Left sweets at the doorstep to appease him. He was exorcised centuries ago.”

“So he took a trip downstairs and now some witch wants to bring him topside?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, this is heavy duty black magic. Due to the lunar calendar or some shit, this spell can only be worked every 600 years.”

“Which would be? Tomorrow I’m guessing.” Sam said.

“Bingo,” River said leaning back in her chair.

“Whats the big deal with this guy? A lot of death and destruction for one demon.” Dean said flipping though the pages of the book.

“He likes company, once he’s raised according to lore he can do some raising of his own,” River pointed to a picture on one of the pages, “Dark, evil, bad stuff. He won’t stop once he gets his party started.”

“Every evil thing we’ve ever seen in one place, following this douche around likes he’s the ice cream man,” Sam muttered.

“It’s gonna be a slaughterhouse,” Dean said, closing the book. River ran her hands through her hair and the three hunters sat quietly at the table, digesting the possibilities of the coming day.  
Dean left early the next morning to stakeout the razorblades house, while River went across town to the victim of the hexed apple game. “You find anything?” Sam checked in with Dean, who sat in the front of the Chevy gorging on candy.

“Nope big pile of nothing. How about River?”

“Nothing, we need to find something soon. We’re running out of time,” Sam said.

Dean nodded, half listening to his brother talk, “Son of a bitch.” He muttered after a moment, he watched a young blonde woman, Becka, the same girl from the Halloween party bounce up the steps to the Wallaces home. He watched as she knocked on the door and was greeted warmly by Mrs. Wallace and the baby boy she held on her hip. Dean muttered again and spun the car away from the home, he sped across town to pick up River from her stakeout and they returned to the motel.

“She told you she’d never heard of Luke Wallace right?” River asked as she and Dean returned to their motel room, finding Sam spread out across his bed, nose deep in a book on witchcraft.

“Yup,” Dean answered. 

“I don’t get it. A blonde cheerleader’s kind of a weird disguise for a 600 year old witch, don’t you think?” Sam asked. 

Dean sat on his bed, “Nah, think about it. If you were some 600 year old hag and you could pick any meat suit to come back in wouldn’t you go for a hot cheerleader?” Dean smirked to himself, “Some young, tight, blonde…I would.” River looked at him, eyebrows raised and mouthed “What the fuck?” Dean shook himself, “I mean you know…if I were a witch.”

Sam looked between the two and stuttered, “Becka’s not so squeaky clean. I did some digging, she got suspended from school after a violent altercation with a teacher.” 

“Let’s go talk to the teacher then,” River said frostily, grabbing her Fed costume from the back of the couch and slamming the bathroom door shut. The teacher, Mr. Harding, taught art; his classroom adorned with paper-mache masks and large kilns. Dean glanced around the brightly colored blobs before being drawn to a mask that appeared to be screaming, it’s features distorted, red and black splotches mimicking blood and bruises. He felt cold sweat breakout on his neck and could hear echoing screams in his head. “Bring back memories?” River asked coming to stand behind him. 

“What the hells that supposed to mean?” Dean spun towards her. 

She took a step away from him, “The shitty, teenage angst in art form. What do think I mean? What’s up with you?”

Dean shook his head and watched as a student readied their clay monstrosities for the kiln, “Nothin’.” 

“Agents, I heard you were looking for me?” a middle aged man entered the classroom a moment later, balancing a cardboard box and a stack of papers in his arms.

“Mr. Harding? Yes, “ Sam stepped forward and grabbed the box before it toppled to the floor.

“Please, Don, even my students don’t call me Mr. Harding.” he shook hands with the three hunters. Don looked every bit like he wanted to be the cool laid back teacher, long hair pulled back in a loose pony tail, untucked dress shirt and jeans, and beaded bracelets adorning both wrists. 

“Yeah, ok Don. I’m Agent Armstrong, these are Agents Geddy and Lee. We want to talk to about your student Becka Davis,” River said as the three flashed their badges at the teacher.

“Cool man, I dig it. Yeah, Tracy’s a good kid. Lots of talent but she just…just exploded. If Principal James hadn’t walked in; she was gonna claw my eyes out,” Don said. sitting on his desk.

“What happened exactly?” Dean asked.

“I just wanted to rap with her about her work, it was like…getting real dark and disturbing, you know?” 

River poked her thumb behind her and pointed at the same mask that had drawn Dean’s attention, “More disturbing than that? Because that shit looks like it’s straight out of Hellraiser, nightmare material, Don. Or the kid with the five foot clay bong?”

Don laughed, “Yeah…she had a notebook. Every page filled with all these freaky symbols and drawings of I don’t know, death and blood.”

Sam pulled out a bag from his pocket and held it up for Don to inspect, “Any of the symbols look like this?” 

“Oh yeah, that totally could’ve been one of them.”

“Do you know where Tracy is now?” Dean asked.

“Probably at her apartment?” Don answered.

“Her apartment?” River asked.

Don nodded, “Yeah, she’s an emancipated teen. Got here about a year ago, all alone. God knows what her parents were like…” The hunters thanked Don for his time and left the school.

“I’ll check the apartment, you check her friends. And Dean,” River said, climbing out of the car, “Emancipated still equals jail bait.” Sam cracked with laughter as Dean pulled the Impala away from the curb with a huff. None of the hunters had any luck tracking down Becka and returned to their motel in the late afternoon. A chubby little boy in an astronaut costume blocked them from getting up the stairs to their motel room.

“Trick or treat, “ the kid said.

River and Dean exchanged a look, “This is a motel, kid.” Dean said trying to step around the kid.

“Yeah, so? I want candy,” he demanded.

River leaned down to look through his helmet, “And I want a smaller waist and bigger tits. Can’t always get what you want kid, get the fuck out of the way.” The boys eyes widened and he shuffled sideways, allowing the hunters to pass. 

“You’ve probably scarred that kid for life,” Sam said over his shoulder as he unlocked their motel room. River shrugged her shoulders indifferently. Sam entered the dark room first and immediately went for his gun, “Who are you!” he demanded. A trench coated figure turned around and a tall African American man stood near the window. Dean and River barged into he room, guns also raised.

“Sam, no,” River told him, “He’s Castiel, the Angel.” 

Dean nodded his head towards the stranger and said quietly, “Don’t know him.” 

Sam smiled nervously tucking his gun back into his waistband and smoothed his hair. “Cas-Castiel, this is an honor,” he stuttered, “Wow, I’ve heard so much about you. Oh my god this is amazing…” He held his hand out nervously towards the angel. River raised her eyebrows and pulled her mouth into a thin line, glancing at the man still staring out the window. She could see the faint outline of massive mahogany wings tucked closely to the mans body.

Castiel smiled bemusedly at the young man, “And I’ve heard about you.” He grasped Sam’s hand and shook it awkwardly, “Sam Winchester the boy with the demon blood. Glad to hear you’ve ceased you’re extracurricular activities.” Sam gave a tremulous smile and glanced at his brother.

“Lets keep it that way,” the man facing away from them finally spoke in a deep baritone.

“Yeah, alright chuckles,” Dean muttered, “Who’s your friend?” 

Castiel turned towards Dean, “The raising of Samhain, have you stopped it?”

“Why?” Dean asked cautiously. 

“Have you located the witch?” Castiel asked him. 

“We know who it is,” River said standing beside Dean and Sam.

Castiel turned away from the hunters and walked towards the bed, “Well, apparently they know who you are too.” He picked up a small bag and held it for them to see, “This was in the wall of your room. If we hadn’t found it you would all be dead. Do you know where the witch is?” The three hunters glanced at each other, River chewed her bottom lip nervously.

“No, not exactly,” Dean answered.

“Well thats unfortunate,” Castiel said quietly.

“What the hells that supposed to mean?” River asked.

The trenchcoated Angel turned towards her, “The raising of Samhain is one of the 66 seals.” River shook her head and ran her fingers tiredly along the side of her face.

“So this is about your buddy, Lucifer,” Dean quipped back. 

“Lucifer is no friend of ours,” the other Angel replied still not looking at the hunters.

“Ok, Castiel, then can you do us a favor and locate the witch for us?” River asked, “You kind of owe me one for the seal in Saginaw, right?” Dean and Sam turned to look at her.

“Thank you for assisting us in locating and protecting that seal,” Castiel said, “But we are not omnipresent, this witch is very powerful. She’s cloaked herself against even our methods.”

“We know who the witch is, if we work together …” Sam asked.

The man turned to face them suddenly, voice raised. “Enough of this.” River watched as his wings twitched and flexed, annoyed at their banter. 

“Who the hell are you? And why should we care?” Dean yelled back.

Castiel glanced between the angel and the hunter, “This is Uriel. He’s what you could call a specialist.”

“A specialist in what, exactly?” River asked.

“You three should leave, immediately. We are going to destroy the city,” Castiel told them, eyes darting down. 

“What? No. Like the fucking museum? 32 people died there!” River yelled, “There’s over a thousand people in this town.”

“It’s regrettable, but the seals must be saved at all costs,” Castiel said gently, “Too many seals have fallen already. We must hold the line. If Lucifer rises, hell rises with him.”

“So you assholes have screwed the pooch on a couple of seals and now this whole town has to suffer for it?” Dean yelled again.

“We are waisting time with these mud monkeys, “ Uriel spat.

“What the hell did you call us?” River asked.

Uriel sneered at her, “How dare you speak to me in that tone. I know who you are, River McGregor; Dean Winchesters whore, mother to his dead, bastard sons; consort to a traitor.”

River blinked several times in shock, “The only person I consort with is Dean. What the hell did I ever do to you?”

“What did you do? You were supposed to die and yet here are. Did Castiel explain to you why you could see our wings when others can’t?”

River shifted uneasily, “Didn’t ask, don’t care.”

“It happens sometimes, when a human comes in contact with an Angel’s grace, “ Uriel took a step towards her, she stood taller and stared into his dark brown eyes, “Who saved you?”

“I don’t remember anything,” she answered evenly. 

“You’re lying. I can find the truth. It’s another one of my specialties,” he stepped closer, leaving less than a foot between himself and the woman. 

“I am not bound to please thee with my answer,” River said quietly. Uriel cocked his head, confused at her strange choice of words.

He glanced over his shoulder at Castiel, “What is this cow saying?”

Castiel gave a small smile, “I believe it’s Shakespeare, a very famous Human author and playwright. I once watched a production of Hamlet at the Globe theater…” 

Dean and Sam stood quietly watching the exchange between the angels and the red headed hunter. River smiled again, “I can translate it Uriel if you like,” the specialist turned his attention back to her. She opened her mouth to speak but the words that came out were not English. To Sam and Dean they sounded like they had far too many vowels and x’s, but whatever she said the Angels recognized. With a great flap of his invisible wings Uriel sent the Winchesters sprawling to the floor, River felt ice cold fingers slip around her throat as she was raised several feet off the floor. Anger seethed through out Uriel, his eyes glowing faintly. River struggled and kicked at the invisible vice around her throat, she heard a strange popping noise in her ears as the Angel used his grace to slowly crush her windpipe.

“You insolent mud monkey. We have no use for you,” he growled at her. Her eyes watered, she scratched weakly at her own throat, drawing dark red lines with her fingernails against her skin. Dean and Sam scrambled unsteadily to their feet and watched as the Angel choked the life out of her.

Castiel put a calm hand on Uriel’s shoulder, “Brother, this is unnecessary.” Uriel dropped the woman in a heap on the floor, where she continued to struggle to pull air into her swollen airway. 

“Listen to me, Just listen!” Dean yelled at the angels, “We aren’t leaving this town. We will find the witch, we will stop the summoning. If you’re gonna smite this town then your gonna have to kill me too and since you went to all that trouble dragging my ass outta hell I think someone in upper management might want me to stay upright.”

“You will leave, or I will drag you out myself,” Uriel told him in a dangerously low tone.

“Nope, you’re gonna have to kill me and that would leave you right back where you started,” Dean said, “Help her!” He pointed to River where she still sat huddled over, drawing in high pitched breaths. Uriel sneered and disappeared. 

Castiel glanced down at the woman and back to Dean, “I suggest you move quickly. Find the witch, end her and protect the seal.” He leaned down and touched two fingers to River’s forehead, her windpipe was healed and she took an even breath. The angel held out his hand and she grasped it and he pulled her to her feet effortlessly. “Your Enochian was nearly perfect. Tell me where you learned our language.”

River glanced at Dean and back to the angel, “Rosetta stone. I can also order a beer and ask where the nearest toilet is.”

“I was present when the Rosetta stone was made, there is no Enochian translation on the tablet,” he said seriously.

“No, Castiel, it’s…never mind,” she said.

“I’m sorry, can one of you explain to me what the fuck that was?” Dean said impatiently.

“Well, I can’t give an exact translation but River encouraged Uriel to have…sexual relations with himself,” Castiel said, a small blush rising in his cheeks.

“River, you told an Angel to go fuck himself?” Dean asked. 

River shrugged, “Maybe…he was being a dick.” Her phone buzzed in her pocket, “Hey Macarena!” played loudly. She declined the call, sent a quick text and stared at Dean, “We have a witch to find, hot stuff.”


	11. Chapter 11

Ch 11.

“I can’t believe you told an angel to go fuck himself,” Dean muttered, shaking his head at River. 

Sam led the way down the narrow stairs back to the waiting car, “Seriously though, where did you learn Enochian?” 

River shrugged, “I don’t know, some free online course. I took conversational Mandarin also.” They stopped in their tracks and stared at Dean’s car, it usually shiny, impeccable paint was smeared with drying eggs. 

“What….oh baby, what did that little shit do to you?” Dean ran up to his car, his mouth downturned in a pathetic grimace. “You!” Dean pointed at River across the hood of the car.

“What? I didn’t do anything!” she said defensively. 

“You mouthed off to that shithead and look what he did to my car!”

“I mouth off to a lot of people Dean, how am I supposed to know when one them is going to take it out on your car,” she said climbing into the back of the Impala. Dean turned around frustrated, searching for some sign of the trick or treater. 

Sam sat in the front seat, still holding the hex bag Castiel had found and sighed loudly. “What’s wrong, Sam?” River asked from the backseat as Dean started the car.

“I don’t know,” he took a deep breath, “I just thought they’d be different.”

“Who? The angels?” Dean asked swinging the Impala back onto the road.

“Yeah, just thought they’d be…I dunno righteous?”

River sat forward and took the hex bag from Sam, “They are. They are self-righteous winged dicks.”

“Talking about wings, why didn’t you tell me you could see them?” Dean asked glancing in the rearview mirror.  
“Didn’t seem important and I thought maybe you could and you didn’t care. So why should I draw attention to it?” River answered. 

“They are dicks, aren’t they?” Sam said quietly, “I can’t believe this is what I’ve been praying to. A God that would smite a whole town to kill one witch.”

“We don’t know Sam, for sure if any of this is really God’s will,” River said. Sam still held onto a charred piece of bone from the hex bag and examined it.

“We need to find this witch, you two are the brains of the operation. Figure something out,” Dean said.

“You know how much heat it would take to burn a piece of bone like this, Dean?” Sam asked, “A lot. More than a basic kitchen fire or even a bon fire.” Sam figured the kilns in Don’s classroom would produce enough heat to char bone and since the hex bag only turned up in their room after they made their appearance at the school perhaps the teacher knew something. The broke into the classroom and found a locked drawer in Don’s desk.

“Thats not suspicious,” River said handing Sam a hammer to knock the lock off. He swung it once and the lock broke, inside the drawer was a collection of infant bones. “Well, shit. Look’s like we gotta go kill Don,” she said smiling. Sam quickly located Don’s address and the hunters raced across town to his house.

Faint latin chanting and the sounds of muffled struggles echoed from behind the basement door. The hunters silently made their way through the dark basement to find Don chanting an incantation and holding a dagger to the chest of the young woman, Becka. She was tied up from the ceiling and struggling against the ropes that bound her. Dean fired a cluster of three quick shots into the mans chest and he collapsed on the floor. Sam and River freed Becka. “It’s ok, you’re ok,” River told her.

“Ughh! Did you see him!,” Becka yelled indignantly, “Sick son of a bitch!”

“It’s alright, Dean got him,” River said again trying to calm the young woman.

She stamped her feet angrily, “Did you hear him!” She stared down at the dead man, “How sloppy his incarnation was? My brother alway was a little dim.” River took two quick steps back and the hunters trained their guns on the blonde witch. She raised her hand and muttered a few words in Latin, sending the hunters sprawling to the floor and twisting in pain. “See the spell’s a two man job and now it’s time for our master to return. My brother was going to make me the final sacrifice but now that honor goes to him.” She walked to the body of her brother and collected some of his still warm blood into a silver chalice and walked back to the alter. Her chanting continued while the hunters were still unable to fight off her spell.

“She’s gonna finish it,” River muttered grasping at her abdomen. Sam rolled towards the dead man and wiped his hands in the puddle of blood on the floor. He smeared the blood on his face and turned towards his brother.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dean muttered through grit teeth.

“Just follow my lead,” Sam said wiping blood on Dean’s face, “River get some on your face.”

“Gross,” she said disgustedly wiping the warm sticky fluid on her face. The three hunters lay still on the floor, trying even to breathe silently as Becka completed the spell and the foundation of the house began to shake. The cement floor cracked and a great billowing collection of grey smoke thrust out of it. The smoke swirled lackadaisically around the basement before swarming into the mouth of the dead witch. The body twitched spasmodically then drew itself onto its feet. Don’s once dark brown eyes were now an unnatural pale grey, his skin sallow and movements jerky. The demon walked unsteadily towards Becka who waited with arms open and an adoring smile lit up her face.

“My lord, my love,” she cried happily, “You’ve returned to me.” The demon, Samhain, took her face gently in his hands and they kissed passionately.

Samhain stared down at the young blonde woman, “You’ve aged.” He said before grasping her head harshly and twisting her neck, the loud pop-pop-pop of bones echoed in the cold basement. The demon dropped her body into a heap and turned towards the hunters. He gazed down at them uncertainly for a moment before staggering out of the basement. River opened one eye and gazed quickly to Sam and Dean. They sat up and looked at each other.

“What the hell was that?” Dean whispered.

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “Halloween lore, people wore masks to hide from him. So…I gave it a shot.”

“You gave it a shot. You fucking guessed,” River said wiping her face on her shirt, “Well thanks Mr.Wizard. Now what the fuck are we gonna do?”

“How are we gonna find this Mook?” Dean asked as they got back into the Impala. 

“I dunno, if you were a newly risen demon and wanted to raise the dead where would you go?” River asked from the backseat.

“Cemetery,” the brothers answered. The town was small and as such only had one cemetery, full of old family plots and mausoleums. 

“So this demons pretty powerful,” Sam said after a few minutes.

“Yeah, that’s what the books said,” River muttered.

“So, what Sammy,” Dean said looking at his younger brother.

Sam shifted in his seat, “Might take more than the usual weapons…”

River glanced up and met Dean’s green eyes in the rearview mirror, “No, Sammy, No way. I told you what Cas said. No more psychic crap. We have Ruby’s knife it’ll be enough.”

“And if it’s not, Dean? Then what? We let Samhain raise the dead, turn this town into Thriller?”

“Sam, please. Just listen to him,” River said quietly sitting forward and putting a hand on his shoulder, “We can do this without your powers.” Dean held the knife out to his brother and Sam took it. The arrived in the cemetery a few minutes later and quickly headed towards a huge stone mausoleum where techno music echoed and strobe lights could be seen. As the hunters got closer they heard panicked screaming. A group of teenagers were locked inside one of the burial chambers, some of the internment stones had been broken away and blood splatter covered the floors and walls. 

“Please help us! Mr. Harding locked us in!” the terrified kids yelled at the hunters. 

“Help them!” Sam yelled at Dean and River as he turned and ran down a dark tunnel in the catacomb.

“Stand back!” River yelled as she raised her gun and fired a round into the lock on the door. The lock shattered and the people inside pushed the doors open and ran for the stairs. Dean and River stepped inside the chamber and watched as the stone grave markers were pushed out and fell shattering to the floor. “What’s your bet? Romero or Snyder zombies?” River yelled over the din. She and Dean stood shoulder to shoulder, silver daggers at the ready and waited for the dead to climb out of their tombs. Dean took the first man that staggered out to his feet, gabbing him by the lapels of his burial suit jacket and flinging him to floor, silver dagger piercing the zombies heart before he broke a sweat. River kicked the next staggering body in the knee causing it lose its balance and topple over, giving her a safe opening to shove her dagger into its chest. She glanced up in time to see a woman creep towards Dean, “Dean behind you!” Dean shot up and swung a dagger at the woman, she broke apart in a swirling cloud and materialized behind Dean. 

“Spirit!”, he yelled as the angry ghost swatted him into the wall. River dove for their open duffle bag and grabbed an iron wrench. She swung the wrench at the woman’s spirit causing her to disappear for the moment. 

“You ok?” River asked quickly, helping pull him to his feet. 

He nodded, “We gotta find Sammy.” They rushed down the dark hallway in the direction Sam had run; skidded around a corner and saw at the far end Sam standing in front of Samhain, his hand outstretched and a look of deep concentration on his face, the demon struggled against an invisible force trying move forward towards the hunter. The demons feet slipped on the tile floor and small puffs of black smoke escaped from the bullet holes in it’s vessels body. Sam’s eyes flicked away from the demon and for a second met his brothers, before turning back to the demon. Sam grunted in effort and balled his hand into a fist, the demon doubled over as its essence was expelled and sent back to hell. 

The three hunters spoke little that night and barely slept, at the break of dawn River and Dean dressed and headed out for coffee while Sam stayed behind to pack their belongings. “I’m gonna wait out here,” Dean told her as they got out of the car. Dean had parked in front of a playground and River nodded pointing towards the coffee shop across the street.  
“You want a double mocha, caramel latte with soy, right? And a bran muffin.” she asked smiling sarcastically. Dean flipped her off and sat on a park bench watching the kids on the playground. Castiel appeared a moment later on the bench next to him.

“If you came to give me the ‘I told ya so’ speech,” Dean said looking at the angel, “ I don’t need it.”

“I didn’t come to judge you, Dean,” the angel said in his gravely voice, “I came to explain…our orders.”

“I’ve had about enough of your orders and demons and seals and all this bullshit,” Dean told him.

Castiel paused, “Our orders were not to stop the summoning of Samhain, they were to do what ever you told us to do.”

Dean leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and cocked his head at the angel, “Your orders were to follow my orders?”

“It was a test, to see how you would perform under battlefield conditions.”

Dean scoffed, “It was a witch, not the Tet offensive.” Castiel laughed quietly. “So did I failed your test?” 

“I don’t know, Dean.”

“You know what? I don’t care because even if you sent me back in time I wouldn’t change my mind. Because I don’t know what’s gonna happen if these seals fall, I don’t know what’s gonna happen tomorrow,” Dean said, “But I do know that all this, these kids, the birds, the trees it’s all here because we stayed, me, my brother, River, we stayed and fought.”

Castiel smiled sadly, “Dean, I’m not like you think. I prayed that you would stay and save this town. These people, they’re all my Father’s creations. You’re all amazing works of art and yet the seal fell and now all you are one step closer to Lucifer rising and Hell rising with him. And all of this will be destroyed.” Dean looked across the street and saw River leave the coffee shop, balancing a cup holder with three huge cups of coffee and taking a bite of a muffin. A car honked at her when she tried to cross the street and she flipped it off with her free hand. “You of all people should know what that means…I’ll tell you something, Dean, if you promise not to tell another soul.” Dean nodded, watching as River walked closer. “I have questions, doubts about what is right and wrong. Questions about my superiors and their orders. But I have no doubt that in the coming months you will have more tests, more decisions to make and I don’t envy you.” Castiel smiled at River as she handed Dean his cup of coffee.

“Hey, I didn’t ever really thank you for stopping Uriel from smiting me…so thanks. Have a muffin,” River said, holding out a chocolate chip muffin. 

“No, thank you River. We’ll be in touch, Dean,” with a flutter of wings Castiel disappeared.


	12. Chapter 12

Ch 12

Dean, Sam and River sat in a crowded bar, drinking cheap beer and laughing about the giant suicidal teddy bear they had run into during their last case. The poor stuffed animal had been brought to life by the innocent wish of his young owner. River giggled when Dean mentioned being a Teddy Bear doctor. “Just when I think we’ve hit the pinnacle of weird we find giant self loathing Pooh Bears,” she sighed as Dean got up from the table to get another round of beer. She watched him sidle up to the bar and wait for their drinks, “You think he’s ok?” She asked Sam quietly. Sam looked across the table at her and over to his brother.

“I don’t know. Why?” he shifted in his seat, remembering the night Dean spent with the bar tender at Oktoberfest. 

“He just….sometimes he’s great, we’re great,” she nervously peeled at the label on her beer bottle, “and other times he says things or looks at me like he wants to claw my eyes out.” She watched as Dean chatted to the Platinum Blonde sipping a Cosmo at the bar. They could tell from where they were sitting Dean was enjoying the conversation by the way he kept shifting closer to her. “He has these nightmares. They’re bad, he mumbles a lot; sounds like a name over and over. He won’t talk about it. And he does shit like that,” she pointed her chin towards Dean, “Do I get jealous? Do I ignore it? This is new territory for me. An actual adult relationship…sorry Sam. I’m talking to you like were girlfriends and you’re not his brother.”

“Look, I’m his brother but I am your friend too. Are you ok?”

“I’m trying to be,” she answered. River chewed her bottom lip and looked back at Sam, “Do you think things would’ve been different…do you think I should’ve gone with Loki?”

Sam took a deep breath and sat heavily back in his chair, “I don’t…no. It might’ve bought you some time but you never would’ve stopped running. She would’ve found you.” River nodded and wiped a stray tear that had fallen out of the corner of her eye.

“I think about it a lot, Sam. If they would be alive…I wouldn’t them to have this life.” Sam reached across the table and gave her hand a quick squeeze. “I love him, Sam. I love both of you and I’m talking to much because I’m kind of drunk… I also love alcohol.” She and Sam laughed and happily took the drinks Dean handed them when he finally returned to the table. 

Several states away a young woman sat in cold, white room. She stared out a barred window and listened intently to something only she could hear. Her dark red hair shone brightly in the filtered sunlight, her green eyes dulled with the effects of antipsychotic medications. “Anna?” another woman sat in a chair across the room, her clipboard balanced on her bent knee. She scratched a few notes on the paper and watched the younger woman. “Anna? Do you know where you are?”

The woman blinked several times and seemed to come back to reality, “Yes? Sorry, doctor. I’m…I’m at…” she looked down at her plastic ID bracelet, noticing it for the first time. She looked around the sterile room, saw the hard bed she was sitting on and the blonde woman sitting in the metal chair across from her.

“You’re at the Beverly Connor behavioral health hospital,” the psychiatrist said, “I’m Dr. Jones. You attacked your father, do you remember that? Three people had to pull you off of him and restrain you.” Anna nodded and turned back to the window, head tilting and listening again to the strange musical buzzing that echoed in her head.

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Anna said after a moment, “I was trying to warn him, warn everyone.”

“Warn them about what, Anna?”

“I’m not crazy…” she inhaled deeply and plucked at the ID band on her wrist, “The end is coming, the apocalypse. There’s this demon, Lilith, she’s trying to free Lucifer from his cage.”

“The apocalypse and Lucifer like in the Bible?” Dr. Jones asked, writing down another note.

Anna nodded, “Yes basically, look Lilith has to break the 66 seals to free Lucifer from Hell and then he will be free to walk the Earth.” She stopped talking and drifted towards the window again. 

“Anna?” the doctor stopped writing and watched the young woman, “You were saying there are 66 seals in the world…”

Anna turned away from the window and stared at the doctor, “No, there are over 600 possible seals but Lilith only has to break 66 and the Angels don’t know which ones she gonna go after. It’s nearly impossible to stop her, that’s why the Angels are losing and that’s why we’re all gonna die.” The one on one session ended shortly after when Anna turned away from her doctor and focused solely on the sound in her head. 

“You sure you got this?” Dean asked quietly. River nodded and slid off her bar stool, she walked on unsteady legs towards the jukebox in the corner behind the pool table. Dean watched over his bottle of beer as she picked a song and began swaying her hips. She turned towards the pool table and watched two strangers play. One of the men landed a perfect shot, sinking a ball cleanly into a far corner pocket.

“Wow! Was that like a hole in one?” River stumbled up to the pool table and asked the large, bald man that had made the shot. He smirked down at her then at his partner, she peered up through hooded eyes, “You’re really good. Could you teach me how to play?” The men eagerly agreed to show her the basics. Sam moved quietly closer but still managed to keep his huge body from drawing the mens attention. By the time the third song ended on the jukebox, River was bent over the pool table, pool cue in hand and ass pressing into the pelvis of the guy giving her a “lesson”. She slid the pool cue forward and hit the wrong ball with a loud ‘clank’, the ball went flying off the table and was caught mid-air by Dean as he stumbled forward.

“Hey, Baby! How about you come with me and I teach you a better game?” he slurred. 

River rolled her eyes at him, “Fuck off, pretty boy.” The two men she’d been playing with laughed stupidly.

“You heard her pal, fuck off. She’s busy, gonna be busy later too,” the bigger one said stepping up to Dean.

“Hey, I never said that…” River mumbled taking another swig of beer.

“Well, then how about we play for this,” Dean pulled out a wad of cash, “Winner take all, including you princess.”

“Yeah, I bet Steve could beat you no problem!” River said, hooking an arm around the waist of big, tall and dumb. “You could beat him, right Steve?”

“My name’s Alan,” he said, “I win, you comin’ home with me?” 

“I’ll suck you off on in the parking lot if you beat his flannel clad ass,” River whispered loudly and tried to wink but ended up blinking awkwardly. Alan pulled out some money from his wallet, counted it then asked his friend for the contents of his wallet. When it still wasn’t enough he stalked angrily to the ATM near the entrance. River took another sip of her beer and briefly met Dean’s eyes before sitting on a bar stool. She’d seen Dean and Sam play this con out a few times over the last few weeks, this was the first time she’d been the bait. She watched as Dean led the man into a false sense of security, waiting for his opening. Dean took his first shot, then another and another; never missing, sinking ball after ball. The game was over and Alan and his friend stood their dumbstruck as Dean counted his money.

“Wait! Double or nothin!” Alan yelled as Dean turned away from the table, tucking the larger wad of cash into his pocket. 

Dean’s eyebrows shot up and he smiled widely as he faced the taller man, “You sure you got enough?”

“Two grand! Two thousand dollars!” Dean said happily as the three walked back into the Impala less than an hour later, “You were born for the grift, princess.” 

River smiled as she pulled her layers of flannel back on,“I smell like douchebag and Doritos, can we get an actual real motel room now with running water.” 

“I’ll suck you off in the parking lot?” Dean laughed, “Jesus…the mouth on you. I think we’re gonna get two rooms, Sammy.” The hunters stoped short of the Impala when they saw the short, thin Auburn haired demon Ruby leaning against the car.

“What the fuck do you want, Ruby?” River said crossing her arms over her chest. The demon smiled coyly.

“Just came to pass on some intel. I’ve been hearing whispers, rumbles about a woman named Anna Milton,” the demon glanced at River and Dean before turning her attention to Sam. “She escaped from a locked psychiatric ward yesterday. Demons want her bad.”

“That’s great Ruby, sounds real interesting, but we’re busy. Working a case.” Dean interjected. 

“What case, Dean? Maybe we should check it out. What do demons want with her?” Sam asked.

“Don’t know but the orders are to capture and deliver her alive,” Ruby continued. 

“What’s the name of the hospital?” Sam asked, avoiding the green eyed glare of his brother.

The two rooms and warm showers were forgotten as the hunters barreled towards the psychiatric hospital Anna escaped from. “Ok, well thank you officer. Please email me a copy of that missing persons report,” River hung up her cellphone and readjusted in the back seat, “Well, Anna Milton is a real person.”

Sam nodded and Dean huffed, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “What, Dean?” Sam demanded. 

“This hospitals a three day drive,” Dean grumbled.

“We’ve gone further on less,” Sam countered, “Say whats really on your mind.” Dean took a breath but before he could say anything River piped up.

“I will, if that’s ok. I know you two are getting kind of used to me being the silent backseat fixture but I got something to say,” River sat forward, “Ruby is a demon bitch from hell that gave us just enough info last time to hang ourselves, she strung you and Dean along for months offering answers and never once fucking delivering. And yet here we are driving into who knows what…and I just don’t understand why you keep trusting her.”

Dean glanced over his shoulder at her and she shrugged her shoulders and leaned back into the soft bucket seat. “I told you she helped me go after, Lilith.” Sam said looking between his brother and River.

Dean shook his head, “Yeah, wow, Sammy thanks for the snapshot. ‘cause I just kind of figured it would have to have been something major for you to buddy up with a frickin’ demon. Maybe just fill in a little detail for us.”

“Yeah, sure lets trade stories,” Sam said annoyed, “You first Dean. How was Hell? Don’t spare the details. Then River and your personal episode of ‘Touched by an Angel.” Dean grit his jaw but said nothing, River sat back and hugged herself tightly watching as lightening streaked across the sky.

“So the orderly has no memory of the night Anna escaped?” River asked Anna’s psychiatrist. The three day drive to the hospital had been filled with longs miles of silence in the Impala, none of the hunters wanting to be the first to offer up a story. 

Dr. Jones nodded, “He received some head trauma during the incident and it’s caused some amnesia. He can’t even remember coming into her room that night.” Dean scanned the room, checking the windows that were barred and locked, under the bed and around the door frame.

River nodded, “This is all new for Anna, right? You said up until a few months ago she was fine, a journalism major, had an internship…”

“Right, bright future, lots of friends, doting parents. Thats the tragedy of the whole thing.”

“So what happened? She just flipped out one day?” Dean asked as they walked into the hallway.

“Well that’s how schizophrenia manifests. One day you’re a well adjusted young adult the next you’re having delusions,” the doctor continued.

“What kind of delusions?” Sam asked.

“She thought…demons were everywhere,” she handed Sam one of Anna’s sketch books. River stood next to him and looked at the drawings, several of them were of the same rose and violet stained glass window and a cross. “It’s not uncommon for our patients to believe that monsters are real,” the doctor said quietly. Sam turned the page and on it was drawn ‘The Rising of the Witnesses’ along with the sigil. The three hunters shared a quick glance.

“Well, thats just cuckoo.” Dean said. The next page contained a drawing of a demon and the phrase, ‘Samhain is risen and the seal broken.’ “That’s revelations.” Dean muttered.

“Well Anna’s father is church deacon. Many of her drawings and hallucinations have religious overtones. She had recently become obsessed that a demon named Lilith is trying to rise Satan from Hell so he can walk the Earth…I hope you can find her, she is terribly ill.” The three hunters thanked the doctor for her time and left the hospital.

“So, um yeah. Guess this is our type of case,” River said quietly as they got back into the car. “We should go check in on her parents.” Dean agreed and the three drove across town. The Milton family home was a Victorian style two story house in an older, quiet neighborhood. They climbed the front steps and rang the doorbell. No sound or movement came from inside the house. 

“Maybe they’re not home,” Dean said, trying to look through the frosted glass.

“When have we ever been that lucky?” River said looking at the cars in the driveway, “Two cars in the driveway.” She reached around Dean and checked the doorknob, the door swung open. “Mmmhmm” she murmured pulling her gun out and stepping inside quietly, “Mr. and Mrs. Milton, we’re here from the Sheriffs department.” A clock chimed loudly from inside the home but no one answered. “We just want to ask…shit.” Mr. and Mrs. Milton lay in the middle of their living room floor, throats slit and blood curdled into cold puddles. Sam leaned down and ran his fingers through yellow dust that was scattered on the floor.

“Sulfur,” Sam said disgustedly after he sniffed the rotten egg stench that wafted from his fingertips.

“Demons beat us here. They want this Anna chick bad,” River said stepping around the dead bodies of Mr. and Mrs. Milton.

“So cuckoo ka-choo breaks out of the looney bin and doesn’t come straight home. Where does she go?” Dean asked. Sam looked at the pictures on the mantel and picked one up, it showed the three members of the Milton family standing in front of a gabled church with a beautiful stained glass window.

“Look at this, looks like the one in her sketch book,” Sam showed the other two the family photo. “It’s the same window. If you were running and scared and had demons on your ass where would you go?” The hunters quickly changed out of their Fed suits and headed towards the church that Anna’s father was a deacon at. 

Dean parked the Impala in front of the church and the trio quietly entered the dark building. They quickly searched the church and found Anna hiding in her fathers office. “Anna?” River called out gently, she tucked her gun into her waistband and waived at the Winchesters to do the same. “We aren’t going to hurt you. We’re here to help you, “ she continued, peaking around the statue where she noticed furtive movement. “I’m River and these are my friends Sam and Dean.”

“Winchester?”a dulcet voice rang out cautiously. A lithe, thin woman stepped out from the shadows. “You’re Sam and you’re Dean. The Dean Winchester.”

Dean smiled shyly, “Yeah. The Dean Winchester I guess.”

“You were in hell and Castiel saved you. And the Angels talk about you, some of them think you can save us,” she continued. “And some of them don’t like you at all,” she said turning towards Sam, “And you, most of them don’t like you either, you’re supposed to be dead.” River smiled and silently mouthed “ok”. “The angels talk about you all the time. I feel like I know you."

“Wait, you talk to Angels?” River asked.

“No, no, no. No way. They probably don’t even know I exist. They talk and I hear them, sometimes in my head. They’re so loud I can’t get rid of the noise.”

River nodded her head absorbing Anna’s story. “So you get locked up for a case of the crazies but in reality you were just tuning into Angel radio?” Dean said.

Anna’s face broke into a beautiful smile, “Yes! Thank you! That’s it. I’m not crazy,” she said gratefully.

“Anna, when did the voices start, can you remember ?” River asked her.

She nodded, “Yes, I remember exactly. I was at home with my parents. It was September 18th.”

River rubbed her temple and the brothers exchanged a look. “The day I got outta hell,” Dean said quietly.

“Yes. I heard when it happened. A voice rang out clear as a bell, first words I heard on Angel radio,” Anna stepped closer to Dean, “It yelled ‘Dean Winchester is Saved.”

“That’s why the demons are after you,” Dean said, “You can hear everything the other side is planning.” The hunter smiled at Anna and she returned the smile.

“You could be their Enigma Machine,” River said, “We should go. We need to get you somewhere safe.” A door slammed downstairs and the hunters turned towards the staircase as they heard footsteps running up. Ruby rushed in a second later.

“Oh, good you found her first,” she said out of breath, “We need to go.” 

Anna let out a startled yell and stepped back, “Her face! Her face!” 

River turned to the other redhead, “It’s ok. She’s a demon but she’s…I don’t fucking know actually.”

“She’s on our side, Anna” Sam told her, “What’s going on Ruby? How did you find us?”

“We can catch up later. We need to run, now! Someones coming, big time Demon.”

Dean scoffed, “Yeah? What are the odds you happen to show up here, right now after we just find Anna. And you got some hotshot demon on your tail?”

“They didn’t follow me, asshole. They followed you from the girls house,” Ruby said. 

“Dean, look.” River pointed to a marble statue of the Virgin Mary, it had begun to weep tears of blood. 

“We’re too late,” Ruby murmured, “He’s here.”

River grabbed Anna by the shoulders and left the woman away, finding a safe closet and shoving her inside, “Stay in here, stay quiet. It’ll be ok.” The door to the office exploded inwards and they watched as an older, white haired man strode calmly in.

“Sam you have to exorcise him or we are all dead!” Ruby yelled. Sam stood up to meet him, stretching out his hand and closing his eyes in concentration. The man stopped, raised a hand to his throat and coughed, his white pupils shining brightly for a moment.

The man cleared his throat and then smiled. His voice was nasally, almost to the point of being high pitched, “Sam, you don’t have the juice to fight off something like me.” With a flick of his wrist he sent the tall hunter flying ten feet through the air and tumbling down the stair well. Dean saw his younger brother be swatted aside by the demon and pulled out the demon killing knife from his jacket. He charged the demon with a feral growl, swinging the knife up in a deadly arch. The demon caught Dean around the neck, lifted him several feet of the ground and slammed him into the wall. The impact caused Dean to loose his grip on the knife and it clattered uselessly to the ground. “Hello, again Dean” the demon said slamming a fist into the side of Dean’s face. “Don’t recognize me in my new meat suit? It was a pediatrician.” The demon punched Dean again, knocking his head back into the wall. “We were so close, you and I down in Hell,” the demon sneered, raising Dean off his feet. Ruby ran away from the fight to the closet Anna was hiding in, wrenched open the door and grabbed the screaming woman.

“Alastair?” Dean croaked. Alastair opened his mouth to reply but was cut short when the sharp tip of the demon knife was plunged into his back. He cringed in pain and dropped Dean turning to face his assailant. River stood behind him holding the dagger out in a defensive stance.

“You stupid little gnat,” he growled. She gave him a half smile and feinted left, swinging the knife to the right and stabbing into the demons upper arm. “Bitch!” he hissed, he reached out with his uninjured hand and sent River flying into the Virgin Mary statue. Alastair leaned over in pain, pulling at the knife. Sam rushed back up the stairs, saw River laying in dazed heap and Dean fighting to stay conscious. 

“Get up, up!” Sam grabbed River under her arms and hauled to her feet as Dean struggled to his own feet. The hunters glanced at each other and then to the large stained glass window.

“Anyone have pixie dust?” River asked sarcastically before they ran at the window and crashed to the ground twenty feet below. They scrambled into the Impala and Dean sped away from the church in a cloud of dust and screeching tires.

“Sit still, Sam, or I will tie you down,” River muttered angrily as Sam jerked away again. She held a needle in her bloody fingers and sewed another stitch into the deep gash in his arm. “Done. Your turn Dean.” Dean stood in front of the motel sink and spat another mouth full of blood into the white porcelain basin.

“Sam can do it,” Dean cradled his arm against chest trying to support his dislocated shoulder.

“Don’t be a baby,” she pointed to the chair Sam had vacated. He took a long swallow of whiskey and then sat down, gripping the edge of the chair with his good hand. Sam picked up the bottle and took a healthy dose himself. “One of you two lushes needs to be sober enough to sew up my fucking back…ready on the count of one.” River pulled up and out on Dean’s arm, smiling when the satisfying ‘pop’ let her know she popped his shoulder back in place. “My turn.” River gingerly pulled her shirt off over head and sat on the bed so Sam could stitch up the bleeding wound underneath her shoulder blade.

“Your bra’s in the way,” Sam muttered. 

“Then take it off, Sammy,” River said winking at him. 

He shook his head and blushed, “Dean, I can’t I’m sorry. Get over here.” River laughed at him as he changed places with his brother. Dean sat down heavily behind her, gently prodding around the gash with calloused fingers before unclasping her bra. 

“Your stitches are prettier anyways,” she gasped as the needle bit into her skin.

“I should probably check out the one on your thigh too,” he whispered into her ear. 

She turned to face him, “I lost the demon killing knife.” 

“We’ll get it back,” Dean said, “Wanna join me in the shower?”

“Mmm, yeah in a few,” River glanced at Sam, then back to Dean, “Who was that demon? You knew his name. I heard you say it. Alastair… I’ve heard you say it in your sleep.”

Dean rubbed his hands down his face, “He’s no one good, we need to stay as far away from his as possible and we need to find Anna.” River sighed as Dean deflected her real question.

“Anna’s fine, Ruby has her.” Sam answered.

“Sam, say that statement again. But slower and try and notice the problems with it,” River said digging through her duffle bag for clean clothes. “Ruby probably used us to find Anna and brought that douchebag with the freaky voice along to kill us.” She stood up holding her clean clothes to her chest and stepped into the bathroom.

“Listen, we just need to lay low and wait for Ruby to contact us. When it’s safe and we have a plan we’ll get Anna back,” Sam said. The shower started a moment later and Dean watched from the doorway as River stepped under the steaming water.

“I just don’t understand why you trust her so much,” Dean said quietly, “We deserve to know, after everything that’s gone down this last year. You need to tell us what’s going on.” Dean walked to the bathroom and shut the door.


	13. Chapter 13

Ch 13

Dean and River emerged from the foggy bathroom a while later. “You wanna get something to eat?” Dean asked his brother as he sat down to pull his boots back on. Sam drummed his long fingers on the table and said nothing for a moment.

“There’s a Doctor Who marathon on. I don’t want to go anywhere,” River called from the bed where she was propping the pillows under her back and legs.

“Comfy?” Dean asked sarcastically. She nodded and burrowed further into the pillows.

“Will you two…You want to know why I trust Ruby?” Sam asked quietly. River turned the TV off and sat forward interestedly, Dean shook his head. “I just wanna talk, I don’t want to be interrupted, I don’t want comments from the peanut gallery.” Sam looked at River pointedly, she zipped her lips closed with her fingers.

“You were dead. I was drowning my self in alcohol, bouncing from pointless case to pointless case. I had no leads, no plans. I just wanted to drink and kill things. One night I came back to my place I was so trashed I could barely walk. Ruby and another demon were waiting for me,” Sam started. “Said she’d been sent to some nasty corner of hell after Lilith took over her last vessel. Then Lilith came to her and offered her another chance. Kill me and she’d be redeemed. She had me Dean; I was as good as dead except she didn’t kill me, she killed the other demon she was with and let me go.” He took a deep breath, “She told me she did whatever she had to to get out of hell and get back to me. …Ruby wanted me to stay with her so we could go after Lilith together. But I couldn’t knowing that she was possessing some innocent person. I told her to let her vessel go, she was riding some blonde secretary from Reno. And she did; she let her go uninjured. The body Ruby’s in now for all intents and purposes it’s her. She did that for me, Dean, she let an innocent woman go and found some braindead nobody to take.” 

River moved to sit across from Sam and Dean at the small table, patiently waiting for Sam to continue his story. “Ruby told me she couldn’t get you out of hell but she could help me go after Lilith. I just had to sober up and she’d teach me how to use my powers.”

“So, what did you learn?” Dean asked impatiently.

Sam laughed, “That I’m a bad student firstly. We caught so many demons, test dummies. And I couldn’t exorcise one of them. Just gave myself migraines and nosebleeds. She never gave up on me, she encouraged me, helped me get through the…loneliness.” Sam looked down at feet and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and quickly told them about having sex with Ruby.

River blinked several times and shook her head letting out a deep sigh. “I need to…I need… I don’t ever need to hear about that again, please.” Dean said disgustedly. “You haven’t told us anything besides you let that demon bitch get her claws in you; let her get into your head.”

“There’s more,Dean,” Sam assured him.

“Well, maybe just gloss over the Skinimax parts,” River mumbled. 

“Ruby told me she had a lead on Lilith but I needed to stay away. I wasn’t strong enough to fight her but I flipped out, threatened to kill her if she got in my way and ran out on some stupid suicide mission,” Sam shook his head at the memory. “The little girl…the vessel was empty by the time I got there. A trap Lilith laid for me. She left two demons waiting for me. They were gonna kill me except Ruby came back for me; we got the girl out safely. Ruby killed one of the demons and I was able to exorcise the other…whatever you say she saved me, she got through to me. The things she said to me to keep me going they were what what you would’ve said, Dean. I wouldn’t be here without her.”

Dean sat forward and leaned his elbows on his knees. River worked her jaw back and forth, “You left me alone, Sam. You just…how do you think I felt? How I’ve been feeling? I’ve been hanging on by my fucking fingernails half hoping some fucking monster would just end it! I lost everything that night, Sam. As much as you did and You. Couldn’t. Even. Call me!…” she pressed the palms of her hands angrily to her eyes trying to stop the tears.

“River,” Sam begun but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Housekeeping.”

River turned towards the door and yelled, “No thank you!”

“Ma’am, I got ya’ll clean towels.”

“Motherfuck,” River stormed to the door, “We don’t need any fucking towels!” A short, plump African American housekeeper in a lite blue smock pushed through the open door. River shut the door after her and watched as the woman closed the curtains and stood in front of Sam.

“This is the address where I’m at,” the woman handed Sam a crumpled piece of paper.

“The fuck?” River muttered, “Should I shoot her?”

“Go now, through the bathroom window. Leave your stuff, leave your car.” the woman continued.

“Wh-Ruby?” Sam said raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, get over it. I’m riding this body for a hot minute. There are demons in the parking lot and hallway.”

“What about… your other body?” Sam took in her new appearance.

“What? Little Miss braindead Jane Doe? She’s slowly rotting on the floor of that cabin with Anna, so if you don’t mind I gotta hurry back.” The maid turned and left the room shutting the door behind her. River was angrily pulling her layers of shirts and flannels on and threw a couple weapons into a small bag.

“Let’s go,” River called from the bathroom. She stood on her tip toes and slid the small window open. “Is anyone out there?” she asked when the taller men crowded into the small bathroom.

Sam peaked out the window and shook his head, “Me first, then you, then Dean.” They made it out the window and into the dark alley behind the No-Tell motel. The cabin, which was little more than a lean-to with a roof, was a two mile hike through the dark woods.

“Anna!” River cried thankfully when Ruby swung the door open. “Are you ok?” Anna sat quietly on a old crate and smiled when the hunters arrived.

“Yes, I’m ok. I think. Ruby…she’s not like other demons.” Anna smiled weakly. “She saved my life.” River sat down on the crate next to the other red head and glanced at Ruby. 

 

“Yeah, we heard she does that.” Dean shuffled his feet, “Look I guess I should, you know…I owe you for…Sam, you know…” Ruby crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows.

“I’ll concede, Ruby and say that this is a step in the right direction. You protected Anna knowing full well what she means to other demons. Thank you.” River said.

“Wow, that would actually mean something to me if I cared about your opinion, fire crotch.” Ruby snapped.

“Fire crotch?” River mouthed looking at Dean with eyebrows raised.

“Dean, do you think I could call my parents? Just for a quick sec and let them know I’m ok?” Anna asked suddenly. Dean smiled nervously and blew out a deep breath.

“Anna, your parents,” River began when she saw Dean and Sam shift uncomfortable under Anna’s gaze. “I’m sorry but we were too late. They’re dead.” She put a hand on the woman’s slender shoulder, Anna’s face crumpled as a sob bubbled up.

“Why…why is this happening,” she began before grabbing her head suddenly, “They’re coming! They’re coming!” The lights in the cabin flickered and hissed.

“Get in the back room!” Dean yelled pulling Anna up and ushering her into the other room. The hunters and the demon grabbed weapons out of the duffle bag River had brought.

“Guys, where’s the knife?” Ruby demanded after a cursory glance into the green bag.

River smiled and cocked her head. “We lost it…again,” Dean said. Ruby turned to glare at him. “What don’t look at me!” he yelled, eyeing River.

“Oh, Thanks D!” River yelled back. The door shook on it flimsy hinges before bursting backwards in a gust of wind. The hunters and Ruby gathered shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the intruder or intruders to show themselves. They didn’t have to wait long because a few seconds later the angels, Castiel and Uriel strode into the small cabin.

“Please tell us you’re here to help!” Dean said tiredly. “We’ve been having demon issues all day.”

“I can see that.” Uriel said, his lip curling in disgust at the site of Ruby. 

Castiel cast a quick glance between the humans, “We’re here for Anna.”

“What do you mean you’re here for her?” River demanded.

Uriel took a step forward, “Stop talking!” River took a step back, sensing the electric buzz of his anger beginning to radiate outward, she had no inclination to suffer another crushed windpipe.

“Are you gonna help her?” Sam asked evenly.

Castiel turned to face the tall hunter, “No. She has to die.”

“What? Why?” River asked.

“Out of the way,” Uriel sneered at them taking another step into the room.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dean said holding his hands out, “I know she’s intercepting your heavenly chats or whatever but thats no reason to gank her.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll kill her gentle.” Uriel crooned with a sick smile.

“You feathered douchebags.” River muttered.

“You are some heartless sons of bitches, you know that?” Dean asked, shaking his head. 

Castiel nodded, “As a matter of fact we are. And?”

River glared at the cold, blue eyed angel. “She’s done nothing wrong. Anna is an innocent.”

“She’s far from innocent,” Castiel said knowingly.

Uriel sneered again, “She’s worse than this abomination you’ve been screwing.” He cast a disgusted look at Sam who glanced worriedly down to Ruby. “Now give us the girl!”

“Eat a bag of dicks you winged asshats! You can’t have her.” River said tensing.

“You three gonna stop us? Or this demon whore?” Uriel pulled Ruby forward and slammed her into the wall. He slammed her head into the termite eaten wood savagely, letting her drop to the floor in a bloody heap. Dean ran forward and attacked the bald angel. The attack was fruitless as Dean’s first blows never landed, the angel was too strong and too fast. The tables were turned instantly and Dean was on the receiving end of the angels fists. 

“You son of a bitch!” River swung a thick fallen board at the angels head. The board shattered on impact and didn’t even leave a splinter in the angel. Uriel turned and faced the shorter red head, “I’ve been waiting for this.”

“Cas, please stop this!” Sam yelled at the trench-coated angel. Castiel didn’t look at Sam as he touched his forehead with two fingers causing the hunter to collapse in a deep sleep. He turned towards the small room Anna was hiding in and grasped the doorknob. Thunder shook the cabin and the angels screamed, their grace flaring brilliantly and then they were gone.

“What the hell?” Dean muttered struggling to his feet, half his face bruised and swollen from Uriel’s attack. 

River grabbed Ruby’s arm and yanked her up, “You ok?” Ruby nodded and they went to Sam’s side where he still lay on the ground. “He’ll wake up eventually.” She muttered to Ruby brushing sweaty hair out of Sam’s face. Dean glanced at his younger brother then continued on into the room where Anna was hiding.

“River! Need your help now!” he barked a second later. River jumped to her feet and ran to Dean. 

“Shit, Anna. What did you do?” River quickly took in the scene, Anna was slumped in a chair in front of a mirror, which had a sigil River had never seen scrawled in blood. Dean was holding a dirty rag to Anna’s bleeding forearm. River took his place and peaked under the rag to inspect the wound and was greeted with a fresh flow of dark blood.

“I don’t know, I just saw this in my head and I drew it. I don’t know how,” Anna murmured quietly. Sam stirred in the next room and River sent Dean to the car for the first aid kit.

“You saved our asses, Anna. Did you kill them?” River asked once Dean returned with requested items. 

“No, I just sent them far away.”

River nodded appreciatively, “Well score 1 for Gingers, Angels 0.” 

Anna smiled nervously, “What are… what are you doing?”

“I’m going to stitch you up so you don’t bleed to death, is that cool?” River answered.

Anna glanced at Dean where he leaned against the doorframe, “Ca-can Dean stitch me up?” 

He straightened up and smiled, “My stitches are prettier than hers anyways.”

River rolled her eyes, “Yeah, sure fuck my three years of nursing school… I’ll go check Sam.”

“Yeah, so Anna’s getting pretty interesting, hmm?” she and Sam talked quietly in the hallway while Dean patched up Anna. Anna and Dean murmured quietly back and forth while he mending her bleeding arm. “We need to get out of here; get her somewhere safe. And we need to figure out what the fuck is going on with her.” The safest place they could think of was Bobby Singer’s, he was armed to the teeth and had a library of occult knowledge at their disposal. Bobby was currently in the Dominican on a supposed case and gave them permission to use his home after a hurried phone call during which he mostly bitched about roaming charges.

“You’ll be safe here, iron coated in salt, demon traps above and below us, warded against ghosts, demons, and almost every other evil son of a bitch,” Dean said giving Anna the grand tour of the Singer panic room. Anna nodded unsurely and sat curled in a chair.

“I find that racist,” Ruby appeared at the entryway and looked in. “Like I’m some second class citizen.”

“I’m sure there’s like a hotline or something you can call to report that, “ River said from where she sat at the small desk surrounded by a stack of books on Angel lore and Enochian spells Bobby had found buried in a hexed chest.

“Here, don’t say I never gave you anything. Keep them close,” Ruby tossed two small cloth bags at Dean.

“Hex bags?”Dean asked. Ruby nodded. Dean handed Anna a bag and instructed her to keep it close. 

River looked up at the huge fan that was slowly rotating, “Sounds like Sams back.”

Dean nodded, “Yeah, you two stay down here.” River gave him a quick salute and returned to the archaic passage regarding angel hierarchy. Anna fidgeted in her seat, glancing between Ruby and River.

“Is he coming back?” she asked after a few minutes. 

River nodded and kept reading, “They’re having their super secret Winchester brother meeting then they’ll be down.”

“I have to pee. Can you come upstairs with me?” 

River closed the book and stood up, “Me too. Lets go.” They came to the door and stared at Ruby, “Move, please….” Ruby glared at them a moment then relented and stepped out of the way.

The two red heads walked up the rickety staircase followed by Ruby to the first floor and heard the hushed tones of Dean and Sam discussing something. “What’s the word?” River asked smiling at the two.

Sam turned towards the three women, his mouth a thin line, “Anna,I found psychological records from your childhood. They don’t make a lot of sense…We need to know why the angels said you were guilty of something. Is there anything you want to tell us?”

The thin, pale woman crossed her arms across her chest, “Sam, I swear I don’t remember anything. My life has been leveled, my parents are dead. And for what? I would give anything to know.” She sobbed, covering her mouth with her hand.

River wrapped an arm around Anna’s shoulders and looked at the Winchesters, “Then lets find out.”

Several hours, dozens of broken speed limits, and a two state round trip later Dean escorted Pamela Brown psychic extraordinaire to Bobby’s panic room. Pam’s curly, auburn hair bounced with each cautious step down the narrow stairs, Dean leading her with a firm grip on her hand and words of encouragement. “Pam, shit it’s good to see you!” River hugged the other woman, “You rock the ‘I wear sunglasses at night’ punk rock-cougar- thing.” 

Pam laughed, “Wait, wait. Where’s Sam?” 

Sam stepped forward, cautiously, “I’m here, Pam.” 

She gathered the big hunter into a hug and squeezed his butt, “Hey grumpy, I missed that sweet ass of yours.” She let Sam go and turned her blind eyes to Ruby and Anna, “Hmm , a demon and you-you’re Anna. Hi there sweetheart.”

Anna smiled, “Thank you for helping me. But…but why, why put yourself at risk to help me.”

Pamela smiled again, “I’m down for any opportunity to dick over an angel. They took something from me…” she removed her dark shades and flashed Anna the plastic caps she now wore in her eye sockets. “Shall we?” Pamela hooked an arm around Anna’s thin waist and the two walked together back into Bobby’s panic room.

“I’ll count back from five, when we reach zero you will be in a deep state of hypnosis.” Anna lay on the small metal cot in the middle of the room surrounded by Pam, Dean, River and Sam while Ruby stood guard outside. “Five, four, three, two, one, zero.” Pam slowly counted back and Anna’s eye fluttered shut. For several minutes the only sounds in the panic room was the quiet whisper of the giant fan overhead. “Anna, can you hear me?”

Anna’s chest rose and fell in a slow, deep rhythm her body completely relaxed under Pam’s ministrations, “Yes, I can hear you.”

“Anna, how can you hear the angels.”

“I don’t know. I just can,” Anna’s eyes remained closed, her body flaccid in her deep sleep. 

Pam scooted forward on her chair and leaned closer to Anna, “Anna, tell me who your father is.”

“Rich…Milton,” she sighed quietly.

“Ok…We’re gonna go back further now. Anna, tell me who your real father is.”

Anna’s face scrunched up in fear, her hands gripped restlessly at the sheets. “No, I don’t want to. I can’t…”

“Just a quick look, Anna. That’s all we need. Who is your father? Why is he angry at you?” Pam gripped Anna’s hand as head continued to toss back and fourth. 

“No,no,no,” she chanted. Electricity buzzed in the room, the light above them flickered, the radio turned on. “He’ll kill me! He’s gonna kill me!” She sat up suddenly, her eyes still closed and screamed. The light above Dean shattered, sending sparks flying across the room, the giant iron door slammed shut locking Ruby out.

“Anna! Calm down!” Pam yelled but the younger woman kept screaming. 

Dean jumped up and tried to shake her awake. “Dean, don’t touch her!” River yelled trying to pull him away before he touched her. His fingers barely grazed her skin and he was sent flying across the room and slammed into the opposite wall with a dull thud. “God damn it, Pam! Wake her up!” she yelled over her shoulder as she and Sam ran to Dean.

“5,4,3,2,1. WAKE UP!” Pam bellowed into Anna’s face. She immediately stopped screaming, the loud buzzing stopped and the radio turned off. 

Her eyes opened, her face radiating serenity, “Thank you, Pamela.” Sam pulled his brother to his feet and the three hunters gathered around Anna. “I remember now.”

“Remember what?” Sam asked confused.

“I remember who I am.”

“Alright, Anna. Enough with the fucking suspense, who the fuck are you?” River snapped.

“I’m an Angel,” She replied smiling. River closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair; Sam and Dean exchanged a look.


	14. Chapter 14

Ch 14  
The hunters, the psychic, the demon and Ana reconvened in Bobby’s sitting room. Anna paced the floor, tucking her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, “Ruby, relax I’m not like other Angels.” Ruby scoffed at her and crossed her hands over her chest. “Castiel and Uriel they’re the ones that came for me?” Sam nodded. “We used to be close I guess you could say we were in the same foxhole.”

“So they’re like your commanding officers or something?” Dean asked.

Anna smiled, “Try the other way around.” 

Dean winked at her, “Look at you.”

“Ok, so you were in charge and now Castiel and Uriel want you dead. Why?” River asked her.

“They’re following orders. I disobeyed and that’s the worst thing one of us could do; now I’m sure I have a death sentence.” 

“Anna, I…I can see the Angels wings…kind of…and their grace and I don’t see either with you. I just see you,” River told her. A brief thought of Gabriel crossed her mind and she touched the small lollipop charm around her neck. If heaven went after one entry level Angel with this much force what would they do to get their hands on a deserter Archangel?

“I’m technically not an Angel anymore. I deserted, I fell to Earth and became human.”

“You chose to become human?” Sam inquired quietly.

“Yes, I ripped my grace out and fell to Earth. It kind of hurt…” Anna resumed her pacing, “My mother, she couldn’t get pregnant and then…me. She always called me her little miracle.”

Ruby stomped her foot, “I don’t think any of you are grasping how utterly screwed we are. Heaven wants her dead and hell…hell just wants her. An actual, bona fide Angel that can bleed; that they can torture and interrogate.” 

Anna nodded, “I understand exactly how screwed this is. That’s why I need your help to get my Grace back…if we can find it. I seem to have lost track of it.”

River sighed, “Where would we look? Do you remember any landmarks on your trip through the stratosphere?”

Anna laughed, “Not really, I was falling at about 10,000 miles an hour.”

“Would your grace leave a sign? Maybe something humans could see?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, like a comet or…a meteor?” Dean piped up.

“Yeah, probably. Why do you ask?” Anna replied.

“Gives us something tangible to search for .” River said smiling. She and Sam went to their respective laptops and began searching for omens reported around the time Anna was born.

“Think I got something,” River called out to Sam about thirty minutes later.

“Me too,” he replied back. They showed the others the two meteorite sightings; one being a meteorite that disappeared over a town in Northwestern Ohio in March 1985 nine months before Anna was born and a second at the same time in Kentucky.

“Yeah so this give us an entire state we have to search!” Ruby muttered angrily to Sam, “How are we going to find her grace in time? We are caught in the middle of a war between Mothra and Godzilla, if one side doesn’t get us then the other will.”

Sam closed his laptop and looked to the kitchen where the others sat quietly drinking cups of steaming hot coffee, “Look, I know the Angels freak you out but we’re all on the same team. If they come for you they have to get through us first.”

“Screw the angels. It’s Alastair I’m scared of Sam! You have no idea what that sick fuck is capable of. You need to exorcise him and send him back downstairs.”

“Ruby, I tried.”

“You could do it…if you weren’t so outta practice. Your getting soft, Sam. You know what you have to do.”

“No, I’m not doing that anymore.” Ruby glared at him disbelieving and then stomped off.

“Be safe, Pam. Mind your shins,” River hugged the blind psychic as she left Bobby’s with Dean to return to her own home. The psychic had given enough of herself in the struggle between heaven and hell and wanted nothing more to do with the upcoming fight. “Hurry back,” River kissed Dean’s stubbled cheek and retreated back into Bobby’s warm sitting room to continue researching possible locations for Anna’s fallen grace. She scribbled the names and locations a few likely spots on a scratch paper and dozed off at the table a while later. The low rumble that signaled Dean’s return to the junkyard didn’t wake her from where she slept with her head resting on her bent arm. 

Dean arrived back in Bobby’s quiet junkyard sometime after midnight. He saw a pale, red headed figure sitting on the hood of a junker staring at the stars. From the distance he thought it was River but as he got closer he realized it was Anna gazing up at the cold, bright dots of light. “Hey,” he said quietly, not wanting to startle her. 

She turned and gazed over her shoulder, “Hey, Pamela get home ok?”

“Yeah, she uh said she’s sorry for leaving but this all just a little too far off the deep end for her.”

“I don’t blame her. You guys should do the same.”

Dean smiled, “We aren’t as smart as Pam.” He walked around the front of the car and swung up onto the hood to sit next to her. “Can I ask you something?” Anna nodded and looked at him expectantly. “Why would you want to become human? Be mixed up in all this? A few billion selfish bastards fighting over invisible lines in the sand and table-scraps…”

“You don’t mean that,” Anna said quietly.

“Sure I do. My brothers screwing a demon, River cries in the shower because she thinks I can't hear her and I’m not even gonna get started about the shit bouncing around in my head.”

“There’s pain and suffering but there’s also loyalty, forgiveness, love…”

“Pain, loss…” Dean continued

“Chocolate cake,” Anna retorted.

“Guilt, disappointment…”

“Sex.” Anna said eyebrows raised.

Dean nodded, “Yeah you got me there.”

“You don’t understand because this is who you are. Humans. You have to ability to feel everything, every emotion, every experience. Even the bad ones. We get…regimented into believing there is only one option for us; blind obedience to a distant Father.” Anna looked back to the stars, “It’s why I fell. And why I would give anything to not have to go back.”

“But you’re perfect and powerful.”

Anna smirked humorlessly, “Yeah, created to perfectly follow orders and given power we are all but forbidden to use. We are threatened with absolute obedience to our Father or death…do you know that in all of creation only four Angels have ever seen the face of God?”

“What? How do you even know if there is a God?”

“We must take it on faith or be killed. I-I was stationed on Earth for 2000 years, silent, invisible, a watcher. The pain and suffering I witnessed knowing that I could alleviate so much of it with a whisper of my grace. Constantly moving, sick for a home I never truly belonged to. Ordered to observe, never intervene. Waiting for orders from an unknowable Father…” 

Dean laughed quietly, “I can relate.” They stared at each other for a few moments before Dean tilted his head slowly down, just brushing his lips along the curve of Anna’s jaw.

“Hey,” Sam called, startling the two apart, “We might have found something.”

The three walked back into Bobby’s home and found River standing in front of a stack of maps and papers, “This is Union, Kentucky. Podunk middle of nowhere town with a buttload of reported miracles.” She pulled a slip of paper from the pile and handed it to Dean, “In ’85 this was an empty field outside of town and this is the same spot six months later.” She pointed to another photo.

“Is that an Oak tree?” Dean said, looking up at her.

“Looks like it should be at least a century old, right? It would take a lot of positive mojo to make something like that. Anna, do you think your grace could’ve done that?”

Anna held the photo of the oak tree and inspected it closely, “Yes, definitely. My grace it’s pure creation…it could be there.”

Dean pulled River into a tight squeeze and kissed her forehead, “Good work, princess.”

She smiled and leaned into his warm body, “We need to get to Grace Ground Zero before anyone else does.”

They drove through the night, the three women sitting in uncomfortably close quarters in the backseat while the brothers rode in the front seat. “Jinkies, look at that,” River said in awe as they walked up to the giant oak tree. The sunlight filtered through the great branches and leaves in a dizzying array of colors. The ground seemed to thrum with power under their feet; the birdsong louder and more beautiful then any of them had ever heard. “Gods, Dean its beautiful.” River murmured quietly when they stood at it’s huge trunk.

Anna stepped cautiously up to the tree, hands outstretched, “This is it. This is where my grace touched down.” She laid her palms on the rough bark of the trunk and closed her eyes.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Sam asked after a few moments.

Anna let her hands fall to her sides, “It doesn’t matter. It’s gone, someone took it.” 

The group retreated a decrepit barn on the outskirts of town. “I say we go back to Bobby’s and hunker down in the panic room until we figure something else out; we still got the hex bags.” Dean proposed after they finished checking the barn for any interlopers. 

“Oh yeah! Hex bags and a fall out shelter! Great fucking idea!” Ruby spat back. “We’ve got heaven and hell out for our asses. We can’t fight both, not with an impotent ex-angel and the three stooges.”

“You got a better idea you stuck up cunt?” River yelled back. Sam stepped between the three before the yelling turned physical.

“Wait, guys be quiet.” Anna told them as she sat down on the edge of a broken crate, “Angel radio is broadcasting again.” The hunters and the demon quit their bickering and turned towards Anna. “It’s weird, like a recording on loop or something.” She closed her eyes to focus on the noise in her head.

“What’s it saying?” River asked her.

“Dean Winchester gives us Anna by midnight,” she opened her dark jade eyes and met Dean’s worried emerald ones, “Or we hurl him back to damnation.” Dean’s eyes opened in shock, his mouth moving but unable to form coherent words. He could almost feel the chains of the rack tightening around him.

“No! No, that’s not gonna happen…” River said hoarsely.

“What kind of weapon works against an Angel?” Sam asked.

Anna stuttered, “Why? To kill them?” Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing-nothing that we could get to right now.”

River rubbed her hands down her face, “Fine then I’m going to work on warding the shit outta this place until we come up with a better idea.” She retreated to the car to grab her duffle bag and supplies. “Sam, help me with this spell!” she yelled when she returned a moment later. Dean smiled at River then Anna and headed outside. 

“Sammy, I need more African Daisy!” River stood up, wiping her filthy hands on her jeans. She tentatively smelled at the strange stains on her hands and grimaced. “Horse shit, fantastic.” she muttered to herself.

“I’m out. Go ask Dean if we have more in the trunk.” He yelled back. River sighed and walked up to Anna where she sat quietly, listening to the repeating broadcast on Angel radio. 

“Quit listening to that bullshit and lets get some fresh air,” she said holding out her hand to the former Angel. 

Anna grasped it and stood smiling. “Thank you, River. I mean it, thank you for…trying to help me.”

“Of course, Anna. You’d do the same for us,” River smiled brightly as they walked up to Dean. He stood leaning over the hood of Baby with several books open and was reading them by the light of a camping lamp. He straightened up and smiled at the two women walking towards him.

“Hey, baby you all done?” he asked.

“I wish, Sam keeps fucking up the Aramaic and I’m out of African Daisy. Do we have anymore in the trunk?” she asked walking to the rear of the car. She laid her hands on the trunk lid and muttered “Oscail.” The lock clicked and she began searching through the carefully organized contents. 

“You know I got the key right here,” Dean said sliding up behind her. She gave him a “mmmhmm” and dug through the satchels and jars of spell ingredients they kept stashed in the trunk. Dean stepped behind her, wrapping his fingers around the soft curve of her hips and pulling her backwards. She laughed in surprise and straightened up pressing herself into his crotch, one hand was grasping a small glass jar of bright purple flowers and her other hand she reached behind her to run along Dean’s check. “You can spare fifteen minutes,” he whispered quietly in her ear. 

River laughed again and turned around to face Dean, “Come back inside and help me finish the warding. You do the Aramaic parts and I’ll get the Enochian and we can have the rest of the night to watch the world crash down around us, naked from the backseat if thats what you want.”

“I’ll stay out here in the fresh air and watch the stars for a while,” Dean replied going back to his stack of books. Anna leaned quietly against the side of the car and looked up at the sky.

“Anna, you wanna give me a hand? Make sure I’m pronouncing everything correctly?” River asked the other woman.

Anna glanced down from the sky and back to River, “I think I’d like stay out here too if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, sure. Why don’t you two swap war stories or something.” River walked back into the musty barn to resume the final warding. She hoped when the time came the warding would at least by them a few precious moments when angelic wrath and demonic hellfire would no doubt come raining down on them in a few short hours.

“You doin’ ok?” Dean asked after a few quiet moments.

Anna looked away from the stars and met Dean’s bright green eyes, “I’m trying. I’m scared.” Dean nodded but kept silent as Anna pushed herself off from where she leaned against the Impala, “Dean, I just want to tell you thank you.”

“For what?” 

“For everything. You guys didn’t have to help me.”

“Look, let’s stop with ‘thanks for trying’ speech, ok? I don’t believe in participation trophies ‘cause if you ain’t first then you’re a loser.” Dean told her smirking sarcastically.

Anna shook her head, “Maybe…maybe I don’t deserve to be saved anyways.”

“Don’t say that,” Dean told her quietly.

“I disobeyed Dean. Our greatest sin is to disobey…Lucifer disobeyed and look at him. Maybe I need to pay.”

“We’ve all done things we need to pay for…” he replied staring down at his dirty boots.

Anna crossed her arms over chest and slid closer to Dean, “I need to tell you something. Something you’re not gonna like.’’ 

Dean looked at her then over her head and back to the barn, checking quickly that they were still alone. “Okay. What?”

“I heard the Angels talking about you about a week ago…about the things you did in Hell.” Dean swallowed thickly and looked back to the barn. Anna placed her hand on his cheek and he flinched, “It wasn’t your fault. You should forgive yourself.”

Dean shook his head and blinked several times, “Anna, I don’t- I don’t want to… I don’t want to,” he swallowed again, “I can’t talk about that.”

She nodded, “I know. But when you can, there are people who want to help. Your brother, River-”

“She’d run from me. She should run from me. The things I did…she’d hate me as much as I hate myself. I can’t-I can’t live with that.”

“I don’t hate you,” Anna stood up and kissed Dean gently on the lips.

He took a half step back, “What was that for?”

“Well, everyone else seems preoccupied and,” She smiled again and rolled her eyes, “You know, last night on Earth.”

“You’re stealing my best line,” he quipped leaning down for another kiss. 

Inside the barn River walked the perimeter again, fixing salt lines and double checking the protection sigils. She absentmindedly rubbed at the fresh cut on her arm, she had saved the blood sigils for last. Sam snored from a far corner where he sat with his huge frame slumped over a table, head resting on his folded arm. River glanced around the barn once more looking for Ruby but she was no where to be seen. “Maybe demons need pee breaks too,” she muttered to no one. She stretched and checked her watch; it was a little past 8:00pm. River decided her part was done and wanted to join Dean in the backseat of the Impala or on the hood or on a blanket in the grass, “…Hi,Jellybean,” her phone buzzed in her jacket pocket and she smiled seeing the ridiculous caller ID that popped up. “Handsomer than Tom Hiddleston…is handsomer even a word?”

Loki/ Gabriel laughed on the other line, “It is and I am. I’m a much better looking Trickster God than that skinny British pretty boy.”

“I was joking when I said he was a better Loki than you,” she said laughing. “I’m glad you called. Shit’s going down later and I don’t know how it’s gonna turn out…” The two fell quickly into a familiar banter about movies and punk bands that they wanted to see on tour and River quickly lost track of time.

Outside in the starlit sky, Dean and Anna fucked in the backseat of Baby. The windows fogged from their mingled breaths, the car rocking occasionally from a change in their position. Anna just wanted to have one last shining memory of what it felt to be absolutely human; Dean wanted to feel something besides the growing knot of self hatred and disgust that had settled in his chest. Neither of them considered the potential consequences. The memories of Hell were always present, constantly repeating in Dean’s head whenever he wasn’t distracted with hunting, drinking, or fucking. He wanted to confess to his brother and River what atrocities he participated in while sentenced in Hell but feared they would abandon him. Choosing instead to continue dealing with the trauma the only way Dean Winchester knew how which was to bury it down under layers of self loathing. He honestly couldn’t even remember the last time he had really looked at himself in a mirror. 

Anna reached her climax crying out in Enochian with Dean following after her, grunting in satisfaction. He pulled out of her and sat up wiping sweat off his face. “Thank you. That was…fantastic,” Anna stretched out on the backseat watching as Dean pulled the used condom off his softening dick and tied it into a knot.

“Yeah. I’m…I should go see if Riv needs any help.” He gathered his discarded clothes and exited the car. Dean flung the used rubber into the brush and quickly pulled his layers of clothes back on. The burning knot of disgust flared in the pit of his stomach and he secretly hoped River would know instantly what he had just done. That she would scream at him, call him every name he knew deserved to be called, that she would leave before he poisoned her life any further. He walked back into the quiet barn and saw his younger brother sleeping soundly. Dean stepped further into the dim building and found River fast asleep, sitting on the dirty floor her knees pulled up to her chest and leaning her back against a wall. He sat down next to her, wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. She murmured something in her sleep and moved her head to rest on his shoulder. Dean closed his eyes and within a few moments also fell asleep.

He awoke a few minutes later and found himself alone in the barn. A figured emerged from the dark shadows of the barn and stood in front of Dean. Uriel, the human loathing, angelic smiting expert smirked wickedly at him, “It’s so cute when monkeys where clothes.” 

Dean stood up and glanced around the empty barn. “I’m dreaming aren’t I?” 

Uriel nodded, “It’s the only way we could chat. Since you’re hiding like cowards.”

“Nice to see off your leash, Uriel. Where’s your boss?” Dean replied, internally smiling that River’s warding had kept them off the Angels sonar. 

“Who? Castiel? He doesn’t know about this. He has a weakness, a big weakness if you ask me…he likes you.” Uriel crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at Dean, “ Times up, boy. We want Anna.”

Dean grinned humorlessly at the Angel, “I wouldn’t try that if I were you. She got her grace back, full set of wings. Whole nine yards of Angel power.”

Uriel laughed at him, “Wow, that would be a neat trick. Seeing as though,” Uriel reached into his shirt and pulled out a long chain necklace on the end which had a beautiful vial containing a glowing, swirling light. “I’ve got her grace right here. And we can’t let Hell get their claws into her.”

“Then give her back her grace and let her defend herself.” Dean yelled.

“She committed a serious crime-“

“What? Thinking for herself? Wanting the chance to make her own choices, to have her own life?”

Uriel smiled again and looked Dean up and down, “Well look at you, boy, seems like you cut yourself a slice of mighty fine slice of angel food cake. Didn’t you?”

Dean balled his fists and shifted his weight, “What do you care?”

The Angel raised his hands in disgust, “You mud monkeys and fornication. It’s all you think about isn’t it?” He took a deep breath through his nose, “This is your last chance. Give us Anna or-“

“Or what? You gonna toss me back in the pit? You’re bluffing.”

“This is so much bigger than you, Dean Winchester…you can be replaced.” The angel said dangerously.

“What the hell? Do it then!” Dean raised his arms in surrender.

Uriel walked around Dean in a tight circle, Dean had the uncomfortable feeling that Uriel could see straight into his thoughts. “You’re just crazy enough to do it. Aren’t you?”

“Well, what can I say? I don’t break easy.”

Uriel stopped his circling and stared into Dean’s green eyes, “Oh yes…you do. You just need to know where to apply the right pressure.” Dean stood quietly listening to just what type of pressure Uriel was willing to apply to get what he wanted from him.

The three hunters woke when Anna returned to the barn, startling an owl which let out an indigent screech as it flew from the rafters. River glanced up at Dean and smiled sleepily, “What time is it?”

Dean glanced at this watch, “Almost 11:30.” 

River smirked, “Well…to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die…” she started singing as she stood up and stretched. Dean pulled his flask out of his pocket and took a few deep swigs. 

“Isn’t a little early for that?” Anna asked crossing her arms and looking down at Dean.

“It’s 2:00 am somewhere,” he replied darkly. 

River paced the barn nervously, glancing at her watch every few minutes and singing under her breath, “Where’s your Girl Friday, Sam?” 

Sam shrugged his shoulders worriedly, “I don’t know.” The wind suddenly gusted outside the rickety old barn causing the door shake on its rusted hinges. The birds and bats in the rafters flew up and out through a small opening in the roof with startled cries. The hunters and Anna gathered in the center of the barn.

“They’re here,” Anna said quietly. 

“Riv, how long are those sigils gonna hold?” Dean asked eyes darting to the different markings littered around the walls and floors. Some of them had started to glow a bright, angry red.

“Not long,” she answered. They watched as minute by minute more of the sigils flared and started smoking. The building shook again and the door was pulled off it hinges by an invisible force and thrown into the field beyond the barn. Castiel and Uriel strode into the barn glaring angrily at the small group huddled together, the hunters hands twitching subconsciously towards their guns. 

“Hello, Anna. It’s good to see you,” Castiel said smiling sadly. 

Sam moved his large frame in front of Anna as River stepped forward. “How did you find us?” she asked. Castiel’s eyes shifted ever so slightly to Dean’s guilty face. Anna, Sam and River turned towards Dean disbelieving that he had sold them out.

“Why!” Sam yelled at his brother. 

Anna turned back towards her former subordinates, “Because they gave him a choice. They either kill me or kill you…”

“I’m sorry,” Dean murmured not meeting any of their eyes. 

Anna gave Dean’s arm an affectionate squeeze and kissed his cheek. “You did the best you could. I forgive you,” she told him quietly. She stepped forward and met the gaze of the other two angels. “Ok, no more running. No more hiding…I’m ready.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel told her.

Anna shook her head, “No, you’re not. I know you Castiel and you want to be sorry but you don’t know the feeling….just make it quick.” Castiel nodded again and raised his hand towards Anna.

“Don’t you touch a hair on that poor girls head!” a shrill, nasally voice yelled behind them. The hunters spun on their heels and found themselves face to face with Alastair, two of his goons and Ruby who was bleeding profusely from a wound on her abdomen. 

“How dare you interfere you necrotic wound?” Uriel spat at the demons. Alastair sneered at the angels. Ruby was cast aside where she crawled the relative safety of a pile of hay bales. 

“Name calling? Now don’t stoop down to my level; you sanctimonious, fanatical prick.”

The air shifted and grew colder as the angles anger flared. “Turn around and leave. Now.” Castiel growled at Alastair. The three hunters and Anna scrambled away from the slowly advancing enemies

“Oh, we will. Once you give us the girl. I’ll make sure she’s punished good and proper don’t you worry.” Alastair sneered.

“You know what we are and what we will do. This is your last warning to leave in peace or we WILL lay to you waste.”

Alastair rotated his head on his neck, smiling at the loud pops, “Think I’ll take my chances.” With no further warnings the demons and Angels charged towards each other. Uriel taking on the two goons while Castiel battled Alastair. Uriel easily threw the first demon over his shoulder and into a wood pillar. While Castiel landed three strong punches into Alastair’s face, causing the demon to stumble back in a daze. The trench coated Angel took the opportunity to grab Alastair and laid his palm on the demons forehead, willing his grace to smite the demon. The Angel knew instantly that it was ineffective. An unfamiliar feeling surged in the Angel, it was pure, cold fear. Alastair smiled, “Sorry, kiddo. Maybe you should run home to daddy.” Uriel on the other hand easily smote the first demon he was fighting, the demon screamed as it was it’s burned out of it’s vessel. Alastair sneered, showing small tight yellowing teeth and grabbed Castiel by the throat and squeezed. The Angels eyes began to weep, his face turning a dark red all the while Alastair was chanting, “Potestas inferma, me confirmas.” 

“He’s gonna kill him,” River muttered shoving herself forward. 

Dean caught her by the arm, “Who cares? We stay out of it.”

“If he dies WE are dead, either the demons or that fuck Uriel will kill all of us,” River told him pulling her arm free. Dean muttered angrily under his breath and picked up a fallen plank of wood. Dean swung the board at the demon’s head causing him to loose his hold on Castiel. 

River grabbed the angel under his armpits and drug him a few feet back, “Get up! God damn it! Get up!” She yelled angrily at him. Castiel looked up at her, her red hair framing an angry, worried face. “Some fucking warrior you are!” she muttered dropping his arms.

Alastair wiped a small trickle of blood off his nose and glared at Dean, “Dean, Dean, Dean…You had such promise. Such…Potential! My favorite student…” River looked at Dean and met his eyes briefly before he steeled his jaw and turned back to Alastair. “What a disappointment! So many decades wasted on you.” He raised his hand towards Dean and balled it into a tight fist. Dean doubled over, grunting in pain and spit up a mouthful of blood. River and Sam pulled their guns out and each fired a few quick shots into Alastair’s chest. The demon laughed, showing his blood covered teeth and turned his demonic powers on them in payback. They instantly fell to the ground, grabbing their abdomens and coughing up blood. 

In the opposite corner Uriel finished off the second demon goon and wiped his hands disgustedly on his pants. He turned and found himself face to face with Anna, she quickly grabbed the chain around his neck and snapped it off. She spared a quick look at the ethereal, swirling blue light within the ornate vial before smashing the whole thing on the ground.The grace escaped its prison, swirling and expanding on the floor by Anna’s feet.

“NO!” Uriel bellowed. The grace swirled up Anna’s legs, her chest and finally up her neck and into her open mouth. She shook violently as her grace took hold of her human vessel. “Shut your eyes! SHUT YOUR EYES!” Anna screamed as her grace glowed a brilliant shade of lilac that emanated from her skin. The humans and the demon covered their eyes with their arms as the blinding light filled the barn. Castiel, Uriel and Alastair watched in awe as Anna became a screaming flash of light. Alastair ran towards the angel and disappeared in the light, leaving only the demon killing knife clattering to the ground.

Dean picked up the knife and stared at the two remaining Angels, “Well, what are you guys waiting for? Go get Anna, unless your scared.” 

Uriel took a menacing step forward, “This isn’t over mud monkey.” Castiel put a calm hand on his brothers shoulder and stared wordlessly at the three humans standing before them. They were gone in a flutter of invisible wings leaving the hunter and the wounded demon.

Ruby limped towards them, weakly grasping the bloody cuts on her abdomen. “What took you so long? Those sigils barely held long enough,” River asked brushing Ruby’s hands away from the wounds and trying to inspect them.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I guess your next demon delivery is free.”

River hissed through her teeth when she saw the flayed pieces of skin on Ruby’s flat stomach. “Can you heal yourself?”

“Yeah it’ll just take a bit.” River helped the smaller woman sit on an overturned crate and rest. 

Dean looked down at the two women then back to his brother, “Gotta hand it to you Sammy. Hell of an idea bringing Angels and Demons together.”

Sam stood up straighter and smiled, “Yeah, well when you got Godzilla and Mothra on your ass it’s better to just get outta their way and let them fight it out.”

River turned her attention from Ruby and looked at Dean, “You think she’s gonna be ok?”

“Anna? Yeah, she’s some big time Angel now.”

“I was kind of starting to like her…I hope she’s happy, wherever she is.” River said quietly.

Dean glanced down at his shoes and took a deep breath, “I doubt it. She ran away for a reason.”


	15. Chapter 15

Ch 15

The hunters retreated from the barn shortly after dawn. They drove in silence, miles passing quickly with no destination in mind. Each stuck in their own heads, replaying the last few days over and over. River met Dean’s emerald eyes frequently in the rearview mirror and she smiled reassuringly at him. She wanted to ask him about Alastair and the claims he had made but knew it would best to let Dean breech the subject. 

They found a cheap motel a few hours later. They gathered their bags and the beer filled cooler from the backseat and settled into the motel room. Dean grabbed a beer and twisted the cap off. He took a long drink, looking over the amber bottle at River where she smiled nervously at him. “I know you heard what Alastair said,” he said after a moment. ”About me having promise.” Sam nodded silently and picked up his own bottle of beer. “So…neither one you is the least bit curious?”

“Of course we are. I am damn curious, but you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to…but you can if you need to. You can tell us anything, Dean.” River placed her hand on his arm gently.

He stepped away from her and ran his hand through his hair, “I’m gonna go grab us some grub; saw a burger joint a few miles back.”

“I’ll go with you,” River told him. 

He shook his head, “No, you’re exhausted. Get a shower. We-we can talk when I get back.” He turned and left the room without another word, Baby grumbling to life a second later as Dean raced out of the parking lot. 

River looked back at Sam, his face mirroring the worry she felt. “Alastair said decades, Sam. What the fuck does that mean?” 

Sam hugged her tightly, “I don’t know. We can’t push him. He’ll shut us out completely.”

She nodded her head against his chest. “You smell like horse shit,” she said smiling and stepping away from the giant man.

“You do too, shorty…I’ll be a gentleman and let you take the first shower.” River grabbed her ratty old duffle bag and gratefully walked into the small bathroom. The shower took so long to produce hot water that River feared there would never be any. When the water finally reached a decent enough temperature she ended up spending much less time enjoying the hot water than she wanted not trusting the motels ancient water heater to produce enough for two more showers. She stepped out of the foggy bathroom a while later wearing one of Dean’s old Zeppelin shirts and a loose pair of sweatpants, rubbing a towel through her long, wet hair. “Your turn, Samsquatch…he should be back soon, yeah?” River glanced at the bedside clock and noted that half an hour had already passed. 

“Yeah, you know how he drives when he’s hungry,” Sam called over his shoulder as he shut himself in the bathroom. She flipped on the TV and quietly nursed her own bottle of beer. “No food, yet?” Sam asked irritated when he finished his own shower. “I’m starving.” He flopped down on the second bed and glanced at his phone. Another quarter hour passed, then half. One hour turned into two and then just as quickly three hours had passed; the full moon was out and lit up the parking lot outside their motel room. River kept getting up and glancing out the window every few minutes. 

“He hasn’t answered my texts. And his phone is going directly to voicemail.” She chewed on her thumb nail and glared at her phone, willing Dean to text her back with any excuse. 

“Maybe he just lost track of time, or had a tire blow out or something.” 

“I’m getting dressed and I’m gonna take one of those cars out there and go look for him. You stay here in case he comes back.” River quickly changed into a pair of jeans and slipped her boots on, “That dick, Uriel could have him, or Alastair…or a fucking werewolf, Sam. And we’re sitting here with our thumbs up our butts waiting…” She pulled her gun out of her bag, slid the magazine out and checked that it was full. 

“Riv, I’ll go. You stay here.” Sam said getting off the bed. 

“Sa-oh there’s Prince Punctual now,” River stopped her argument when she heard the growling engine of the Impala pulling back into it’s spot right outside their room. The door was flung open a moment later and Dean stumbled in, smelling like a bar, sweat and some sweet, earthy smell River was having trouble identifying. “Dean, where the hell have you been?”

He turned rheumy eyes towards her and blinked slowly. “You still here?” he slurred.

“What? Yes, we’re still here. You said you were gonna go get dinner remember? That was three fucking hours ago.” River glanced worriedly at Sam, neither of them had seen Dean this drunk. He wobbled on his legs, pulling his jacket off and dropping it on the floor. “Where the hell have you been? Your god damn phone is off and…you stink.”

“I went out… Obviously.” Dean scratched the stubble on his jaw and neck. River leaned down and picked up his leather jacket, watching as a stray piece of trash fluttered out of the pocket and onto the floor. She picked it off the floor and turned it over and over in her fingers, willing it to make sense. Sam watched her over his brothers shoulder, saw the conflicting emotions crossing her face and the color rising from her chest. She looked up from the stray piece of wrapping and briefly met Sam’s eyes before staring at Dean. 

She grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and spun him to face her. “That’s a nice color on you,” she said quietly wiping a smear of crimson lipstick off his neck and holding her fingers up to his eyes. “ And this?” she held up the torn package and his green eyes flicked to it.

“Meant to throw that out…” he murmured glancing at the condom package and back to River’s stony face.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Fucked some slut I met at a bar,” he answered nonchalantly.

“Dean, stop. You’re drunk!” Sam put a hand on his brothers shoulder. River worked her jaw back and forth, willing herself to take deep breaths.

“What was her name?” 

“Don’t know.”

“Anyone else?” This wasn’t the reaction Dean had imagined, he wanted her to scream, to be angry, to hit him. Instead she stood there like a statue, her voice calm and even, her face unreadable.

He cleared his throat, “Some bartender at Oktoberfest….and Anna.” 

River blinked several times, “Anna?…Why?”

“Why? That’s all you got?…god you are-“

“Dean stop.” Sam repeated.

“No, Sammy she wants to know why…where should I start? How about wasting my last 10 months on Earth with you…then spending 40 years in Hell being ripped and torn and tortured to be brought back here to you, a sniveling emotional wreck.” River blinked again, refusing to let a single tear drop as he continued spewing hateful words at her. “You think you suffered? You can never comprehend what was taken from me down there …but after all those years in the pit it helped me realize something…you are the worst decision I ever made.”

She gave a single nod of her head and dropped his jacket back on the floor. She brushed past the brothers and grabbed her duffle bag where she had it left laying open on the foot of her bed; she shrugged into her hoodie and jacket and swung her bag across her body.

“River where are you going? It’s almost midnight. Dean can sleep it off in the car. He’s talking out of his ass…” Sam put his large frame in front of the much smaller woman.

She grabbed him in a tight hug and stepped around him, “Bye Sam.”

“That’s great, Dean! Great job! You choose now- right fucking now to pull this shit.” Sam pushed past him and out into the darkness; the parking lot was empty and silent. Dean stood still, taking deep breaths through his nose, the slamming door echoing in his head. He closed his eyes, feeling no sense of accomplishment or relief in having succeeded at driving her away. 

River’s gait was quick and determined as she headed towards the faint glow of the downtown district a few miles away. She remembered the bus depot from their quick drive down the main street and chose that as her destination. Dean’s words reverberated in her mind, mixing and jumbling with every terrible thing the ghosts, the shifter, and she had ever said about herself. “Stupid…stupid, fucking pathetic loser. God damn it.” She sniffed loudly and wiped at the fat tears falling from her eyes. “Swap war stories….what the-I’m so stupid…of course he would, why wouldn’t he fuck a supermodel ex-angel.” The front of her hoodie was wet with the tears she had already shed. The miles passed quickly and she found herself standing in line in the dirty bus station lobby. A few travelers sat scattered in hard plastic chairs, some staring at the ancient TV in the corner showing reruns of some long canceled sitcom. River paid for her bus ticket and chose a seat with a wide view of the lobby, leaving no chance for anyone to sneak up on her. She hugged her duffle bag closely and tapped her foot on the dirty linoleum floor, watching the clock as it counted down her buses arrival.

“Well, hey there sugar cookie.” Gabriel appeared in the chair next to her. “Whatch’a doin’?”

River rubbed her hand down her tear streaked face and across her nose, she knew she probably looked like a train wreck, eyes red, face blotchy and soaked in tears. “Why are you here?”

“You called me.”

“Did not.”

“You prayed to me then.”

“If I did it was an accident and I don’t need you. I agreed to wear this little lo-jack of yours to protect you, not to give you full access to my head.” She pulled lightly at the charm around her neck.

“Sorry to break it to you lollipop. I’d have free access to your head with or without that. Just keeps all my pesky brothers and sisters from getting in your noggin and thumbing through your thoughts.” 

She raised her eyebrows, “Guess I should’ve paid more attention to all the Angel crap you tried to teach me…I really just wanted to learn cuss words in Enochian.” She checked her watch against the digital clock on the wall. “Speaking of Angel crap, did you tell me about the wings and the grace. Because it kind of feels like you didn’t. I can’t see your wings, why not?”

Gabriel shifted in his chair and glanced around at the stupefied residents of the lobby, “Because I have them…put away. And no, I guess I didn’t tell you because I was hoping you wouldn’t run into any of my family members.”

River scoffed, “You’re so full of shit…my bus is here. Bye, Gabe. Please don’t follow me. I’ve had enough Angels and Demons and your bullshit.” He reached out and grabbed her hand before she stormed away. 

“I can take you where ever you want, come on Lemon Drop”

She gently pulled her hand away, “I just want to be alone for a while. Please. Go.” River walked towards the bus flashing “Astoria, OR”, handed the driver her ticket before climbing inside and chose a seat at the back of the bus. She fell asleep sometime later and dreamed of sunflowers.

“The souls of your children, pure, innocent worth more than a thousand souls I gather from deals made by idiots like Dean. Give them to me and Dean and you are free to walk out of here.” The nightmare always started the same; Lilith and her white pupil-less eyes staring up at her. The familiar popping and stretching sensations coming from her belly as her sons flipped and kicked inside of her. Then burning sharp pain as invisible claws tore her apart from the inside, the stench of copper as she bled and the inhuman scream of anguish that Lilith pulled out of her. Then darkness, heavy and confining. Punctuated by Dean’s screams and the wet snarling of the beast that was murdering him. Then before the darkness took her ability to speak she called out to Dean one last time. River shifted in her seat on the bus, the gentle swaying keeping her asleep and trapped in the dream.

“We got a female, approximate age 25-30, 8 months pregnant with twins. Hit by a car, massive abdominal trauma and blood loss.” The calm clinical voice echoed in her head; the gurney was hard and uncomfortable under her back.

“She isn’t pregnant anymore… Call the OR tell ‘em we got a level four trauma rollin’ in.” A new, harsh voice rang out. Then poking and prodding, the feeling of her clothes being cut off and the cold air hitting her exposed skin. She screamed when they moved her onto the operating table but no one heard, the scream echoed in her head. Surgeons began barking orders at nurses, yelling out for surgical instruments and then the first cut. The feeling of having someones cold hands digging around in her abdomen would haunt her for weeks. “PLEASE STOP! GOD, JUST STOP!” she screamed willing the strangers in the operating room to hear her. The sounds and voices around her became dulled and muffled and she felt a strange floating sensation in her limbs as if she were filling with helium and starting to drift away. Then the people in the operating room were screaming and calling out for help. Glass shattered, electric sparks arced around the room and a deafening, high pitched warble that River could feel in her bones. Then a wonderful, safe warmth enveloped her and she was taken away from the screaming and the pain.

“Wake up….come on sleepy head you can do it…wake up.” A voice flitted through the darkness to River’s ears.

She struggled to open her eyes for several minutes, “Ughh…what the fu-“ She finally got her eyelids to cooperate and saw she was surrounded by a wall of sunflowers. Giant sunflowers that towered several feet off the soft earth, small tightly packed sunflowers of every color found in sunsets blooming right next to her head. River reached out a shaky hand towards the flowers brushing her fingertips across their delicate petals. She sat up on her elbows and surveyed her impossible surroundings. Her eyes drifted down the length of her body and it took her a moment to realize how strange it was to be able to see her feet. It had been weeks since she seen her feet over the swell of her pregnant stomach. A strangled cry bubbled up and erupted in a gut wrenching sob as she raked her fingernails along her abdomen. “No! NO! Where are they?”

“Hey, hey stop that,” a figure appeared beside her and grabbed her hands before she could do anymore damage. “That stomach of yours is some of my best work, very Renaissance. All soft curves and hey! Ow!” River pulled her hands out of the intruders grip and socked him in the jaw.

“Loki? What-what is this?” River blinked several times, confused tears rolling down her cheeks. She sat the rest of the way up and looked at her strange friend. His sandy blonde hair and whiskey colored eyes glowing as if lit from with in by a deep burnt orange light. “Where am I?…Am I dead?”

“No, Lemon Drop you’re not dead…you’re ok. I uh-uh,” Loki cleared his throat, “I resurrected you.”

River closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her eyelids, “You’re not making any god damn sense…just let me die in peace. No more tricks.” 

Loki took her hands in his again, “I’m not a trickster…I am an Angel. An Archangel actually.” He smiled shyly and his eyebrows disappeared under his shaggy hair. “My name-my real name is Gabriel.” 

River’s brows knitted together and her mouth opened and closed several times. “Where is Dean?”

“He’s gone, lollipop.”

“And my babies?”

“I can’t bring them back.”

“Why am I here?” Plump tears continued to roll down her face onto her naked chest.

“Because I didn’t think you deserved to die sprawled out on an operating table surrounded by strangers in ugly green pajamas…you’re taking this a lot better than I thought you would. Did you here me when I said I was an Angel?” 

The bus came to a rough stop and River tumbled into the seat in front of her cursing under her breath as she swiped the smear of drool off her mouth. She’d had the same dream for the last three nights, replaying the first few hours of her new lease on life. She sat back in her seat and looked out the window, the sky was grey and thick raindrops pelted the tinted glass. A sign on the highway said they were less then 25 miles from Astoria and River smiled checking the list she had written of sights she wanted to see in the small Oregon town.

River enjoyed the cold and the rain the Pacific North-West offered after so many months bouncing back and forth in the Mid-West. She explored some of the sights from her favorite movie “The Goonies”. The hunter could almost pretend there were no monsters, demons or Angels lurking while she walked past antique shops and art galleries. Almost but not quite because she could never be that lucky could she? 

After a few days in the sea side town River decided she’d had enough of Astoria and took a short drive down the coast to Cannon Beach to see the famous Haystack Rocks. She spent the day enjoying the tide pools and watching surfers ride the waves. She stayed longer than she meant soaking in the natural beauty. River realized quickly she had let her gas tank get too low during her sightseeing but didn’t know the area and unlike Sam couldn’t get a fool proof wifi connection in the wilderness. The red ‘E’ glared warningly at her from the dashboard and she cursed herself for the thousandth time as she rounded another tight curve in the road. She chanted “fuck ,fuck, fuck” under her breath; the hunter in her was not happy with the prospect of being caught in a forrest at night with a dead car. River crested a final hill and saw a tell-tale metal sign reflecting in the headlamps of her shitty stolen car. She coasted into the gas station just as the car used the last vapors in the tank. “Thank you,” she kissed the steering wheel and gave a cursory glance outside before exiting the car. The gas station office was dark but the pump took credit cards and so for the moment her luck held. She dug out her wallet and chose one of the skimmed credit cards at random, plugged it into the card slot and pumped her car full of gas. A twig cracked behind her and River let out a disgruntled sigh, “I’m on vacation asshole! You wanna keep living I suggest you fuck off!” Another twig cracked and River walked around the back of her car to her trunk where she pulled out a machete.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” a simpering voice called behind her. She slammed the trunk angrily and turned to face the annoyance. The man was in need of a shave and a haircut, his clothes not suited for the damp Oregon weather.

“Hey there, vampire.” She gripped the machete and raised her eyebrows at the monster. “So, we gonna do this or what?” The vampire snarled, opening his mouth wide and allowing his double row of razor sharp teeth to poke through his gums. The vamp growled again and ran quickly towards her, its hunger causing it to be overzealous. River swung the machete like she was aiming for left field, the vampires head departed its neck and tumbled to the muddy ground at her feet. “Son of a bitch,” she flicked the gore off the machete and went back to the trunk to grab her shovel. It had started to rain again and burning the body wasn’t an option so of course she’d have to dig a grave in the heavy, muddy earth behind the gas station. When the deed was done she climbed wearily back into her car. “And I’m officially over Oregon.” She drove through the night, singing along loudly with the Ramones and Misfits as she left Oregon behind and veered into Idaho. 

Over the next three weeks she ping ponged back and forth among states eventually winding up down in Arkansas searching for a hitchhiking ghost on Highway 395 that had caused a dozen fatal car accidents. The time away from Dean and Gabriel and no sign of any trench coated Angels (or any other Angels for that matter) had given River time to regroup. She’d found a doctor during a week long hunt in Colorado, filled out a bunch of forms and was given a couple prescriptions for antidepressants. The pills she’d been on before during especially rough patches in her high school years and again after her ordeal with the shapeshifter. She knew they wouldn’t fix the problem but they had helped make things manageable for her in the past. The hitchhiking ghost was a bit of pain in the ass, it tried to force her off the road twice before River could get it to listen and cooperate. The young woman was a runway that had been raped, murdered and buried in a shallow grave near mile marker 31 a decade prior. Her family never even reported her missing. She just wanted to go home and River helped her, the spirit didn’t scream when her bones were burned but instead looked skyward as she was released. 

River was trudging back to her waiting car when her cellphone rang. She glanced at the screen and didn’t recognize the number. She had a quick internal battle about letting it go to voicemail but answered on the last ring, “Hello?” 

“Oh…wow you answered. Awesome,” a familiar yet strangely unfamiliar voice answered. “Hi, is this River uh..I don’t know your last name but you were at the Morton House with those two tall douchebags last year.”

“Uhm, yeah…this is River… Is this Spruce?”

“No, Spruce is in Canada filming a documentary on Maple syrup. This is Ed- Ed Zeddmore.”


	16. Chapter 16

CH 16

“I thought High School sucked the first time around…” Dean groaned as he and Sam finally settled into their motel room. Sam grunted in response. He was quiet and withdrawn, still thinking about ‘Dirk the Jerk’ and his friend Barry. Barry, who had committed suicide and Dirk, who had died of a drug overdose and become a vengeful spirit. Being back at Truman high, even for just a few short days had brought back a lot of memories for the younger Winchester. “You want to get something to eat, maybe grab a few drinks?” Dean asked shrugging out of his jacket.

“Nah. I think I just want to shower and hit the hay.” Dean nodded and flopped onto his bed, kicking his boots off in the process. He flipped on the television and channel surfed for a few minutes before settling on “The Golden Girls”. He felt an empty pang in his stomach when he recognized the episode as one of River’s favorites. It had been nearly three months since she’d walked out of his life and rightly so; the betrayal and hurt etched on her face when she stormed out were seared into his memory.

Sam exited the bathroom a while later and climbed silently into his own bed, murmuring a quick ‘Goodnight’ and falling asleep almost instantly. Dean stifled a laugh as his younger brother began snoring. The episode ended and Dean couldn’t find anything else worth watching so he turned the TV off. He got off the bed and dug around in his duffle bag for a moment before pulling River’s laptop out. She had left it in the backseat of the car the night she had left and Dean had started using it as his own since Sam kept yelling at him about infecting his with viruses. Dean settled back onto his bed and was trying to decide between ‘Busty Asian Beauties’ or ‘Very Voluptuous Vixens’, the cursor hovered over the bookmark tabs on the web browser before settling on a different page.

The page loaded and Dean instantly regretted his choice. The ‘Ghostfacers” theme song blared over the laptop speakers and Sam mumbled in his sleep. “Sorry, sorry!” Dean said hurrying to turn down the volume. He scrolled through the website, he had seen most of the episodes having watched them with River. She never missed a new episode and had even started following them on different social media, much to her chagrin after Dean found out and teased her incessantly for days when he saw her responding to the official “Ghostfacers” twitter. He was about to go back to his porn when he noticed a flashing icon that indicated a new epsiode; “Ainsworth Murder House” with special guest investigator! “What the hell,” Dean thought to himself and clicked on the episode.

“Welcome loyal viewers! Be warned the following footage contains paranormal violence, adult language and situations and content that may be disturbing to some.”

Pre-Investigation Debriefing

“Do I look ok? You like the shirt? You think she’ll like the shirt?” Ed Zeddmore came into focus as the episode started, he was straightening a red and black flannel shirt and adjusting his glasses. Harry Spangler turned the camera towards himself and fiddled with the lens, the zoom moving back and forth before finding the right setting. Ed and Harry sat at a chipped wood booth in a half full diner; stacks of paper and a battered laptop covered most of the table.

“Yeah, man. You look great. Relax.” Harry turned the camera towards himself.  
“She’s thirty minutes late. She’s not coming…wait that’s probably her.” The camera panned from Ed’s face to the dirt parking lot where a dusty Camaro skidded to a stop. The driver door opened and a figure stepped out onto the gravel. Harry tried focusing the camera through the dirty windows and followed the driver as they walked into the diner.

“Hey baby.” Dean muttered as the figure on the computer screen came into focus. 

River walked up to Ed and Harry smiling nervously at the camera, her long red hair hung loose down her back, she had her normal uniform of band shirt, flannel, hoodie and jeans on. “Hi, guys sorry I’m late.”

“Hi! You look great! Have you lost weight? Not that you need to lose weight…” Ed said as River slid into the booth next to him.

“Thanks. Yeah, I lost 190 pounds of flannel wearing, emotionally impotent, cheating asshole.” River answered smiling sarcastically. “Nice shirt, Ed.”

Ed turned his own camera on and pointed it at himself, “To our viewers at home, this is River,”

“I’m fucking starving, how ‘bout you guys?” River ignored the camera and flagged down the waitress. The video stopped abruptly and restarted apparently several minutes later, empty plates were stacked at the end of the table and River was quietly sifting through papers. 

“So lets go over the case: we will be investigating the Ainsworth house. Reported to be severely haunted. Originally owned by Mr. Michael Ainsworth who disappeared under mysterious circumstances in 1997. The home was repossessed by the bank and went through several owners over the course of the next fifteen years. Each of the former owners never staying for more than a few months, reporting the house to be unlivable due to spirit activity such as phantom smells, shadows, and poltergeists. The house has now sat empty for several years.“

River gave a half smile, “Is that all you got?” 

Ed and Harry stared at her, “What else is there?”

She pulled her backpack onto the table and pulled out a notebook, “Mr. Michael Ainsworth was suspect number one in a string of disappearances of about a dozen women back in the 90’s. Local law was working on building a case against him when he disappeared.” She handed Harry a photo, “Take a good look at that. That’s Ainsworth a few months before he disappeared.” The photo showed a clean cut, pale middle aged man with a long nose, strong jaw and sandy blonde hair. “ Since then several more women have been reported missing from or near the home since his disappearance. This is Janet Wallace her and her husband bought the home after it foreclosed. She went to bed with her husband one night a few weeks after moving in and was reported missing the next morning. No sign of foul play and never seen again.” River held up several more photos to the cameras and gave a brief report of each. “And uh…can I borrow your laptop. I lost mine somewhere…” She pulled Ed’s laptop towards her and started typing. “This video was uploaded last week to a message board. A group of teens decided to break into the home and go ghost hunting…” Harry focused his camera on the laptop screen, a grainy video showed several people sitting in front of a Ouija board. Candles flickered and then were blown out, the people sitting around the board suddenly started screaming as furniture was thrown around the room. The shaky footage showed a looming figure grab one of the screaming women by her hair and drag her away from her group of friends. River paused the film, giving Ed and Harry and the viewers at home a clear shot of the assailants face. “That’s Ainsworth. The girl is Sandra Johnson, her friends heard her screaming as she was taken away. She hasn’t been found…”

Investigation of Ainsworth House

“Alright, so we’re gonna go in tight and professional. No one goes anywhere alone.” The episode restarted after a montage of Ed and Harry checking their equipment. The camera panned to River as she pulled supplies and weapons out of the trunk of her Camaro. She tucked several bottles of salt into her backpack, checked the magazine in her pistol before putting it in the holster on her side and grabbed her shotgun before slamming the trunk closed.

“Alright, Annie Oakley…” Harry muttered at her arsenal. River led them up the wood steps to the front door, yellow police tape covered the door and she tore it down before trying the knob, it was locked. “Here, back up. I’ll kick it in.” Harry swung his arm out and moved River to the side. She stood back and rested her hands on her hips watching as Harry took position in front of the door. Ed turned the camera towards River as she watched Harry with a bemused smirk as he kicked the door. “I think it’s made out of steel or something.”

River rolled her eyes, “Good try, Chuck Norris.” She pulled a small flashlight out of her pocket and squatted in front of the door. “Ed, hold this.” She handed him the flashlight and pulled out a small cloth pack from her jacket pocket. Dean smiled, recognizing it as the lock pick kit he had given her. She got to work picking the lock. 

“So, River how about you tell our home viewers a little bit about yourself?” Ed focused his camera tight on River’s face as she concentrated on the lock.

“I’m a Capricorn. I like bad movies, good books and stiff drinks. My taste in music is borderline schizophrenic. I have enough emotional baggage and trust issues to fill a ’67 Chevy Impala…did you hear something?” River stopped fiddling with the lock and looked into the empty field beyond the house. “Guess I’m a little paranoid. Freaking demon cornered my at a Gas ’n’ Sip this morning. Douche is yammering on about having a message for ‘the Winchesters and their Angel friend’, like I’m their fucking answering machine or something…I’m done being Bella. I’m freaking Hermione.” She ranted at the locked door. 

“Wh-“

“Bella, you know bland boring female who does everything in her fucking power to keep her boyfriend happy; Oh, Dean’s having a bad day? A blowjob would probably make him happy. No wonder he fucked around on me…Hermione wouldn’t put up with that noise. She’s strong, smart, stands up for herself, lives her own life. Be a Hermione never be a Bella.” She angrily jabbed the pick in the lock again and smiled when the tumblers finally lined up. “Never mind. I probably shouldn’t mix my antidepressants with energy drinks… Let’s do this,” she opened the front door and stepped inside the dark house. Ed and Harry followed, slowly swinging their cameras around the entryway. The large living room was littered with broken furniture, beer cans, and the discarded Ouija board from the teenagers. A giant stone fireplace was built into the far wall and the kitchen lay beyond.

“What the hell is that supposed to be?” Ed asked as River pulled a small square object out of her backpack.

“It’s an EMF detector.” She held it up for the camera.

“Looks like an old walkman,” Harry said.

“It looks like a walkman because that’s what Dean made it out of…he’s a freaking genius I swear. The stuff he comes up with…stupid, cheating jerk face,” she added under her breath. She turned the EMF on, the light immediately went to orange indicating a moderate reading. “And we got a winner.” She turned away from Ed and Harry and continued into the house.

She walked down the closest hallway, opening doors and peering inside each room. More broken furniture, dust and the occasional dead rat were all that greeted her yet the EMF detector continued at a steady high reading. River came to a door at the end of the hall that wouldn’t open. She cursed under her breath pulling at the doorknob. She stepped back and with one strong kick the door swung open. Her EMF detector started beeping loudly as she stepped into the room. Ed and Harry peered in through the doorway, they were in the master bedroom. The room was empty. River shrugged her shoulders and turned back towards Ed and Harry. “You feel that? It just got real cold…” She shivered visibly and let out a breath of frigid air. 

“Behind you!” Ed yelled too late. A tall figure appeared behind her and the door was slammed shut in the mens faces. A heavy thump caused the door to shake and a muffled yell came from the room along with the sounds of a struggle.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Dean sat forward on the bed staring at the screen. “You chickenshits get in there and help her!” he muttered angrily. A shotgun blasted from within the room and a moment later River pulled the door open and rushed into the hallway. Her lip was bloody and shirt torn.

She took several deep breaths and leaned against the wall opposite the door. “It’s on Casper!” she yelled into the empty room. Ed and Harry’s frightened faces appeared on the screen as they swept their cameras back and forth, taking in shaky frames of the hallway and River as she flicked her shotgun open and threw out the spent shells. She flicked the shotgun closed and wiped blood off her lips. “He wants to add me to his collection, whatever the hell that means. Isn’t that sweet? His body has to be here in the house somewhere, he’s too strong and if we don’t find it he’s gonna keep hurting people….we’re missing something.”

“Maybe theres a bomb shelter,” Ed piped up. 

River stopped her trek down the hallway and smiled, “Yeah, maybe- shh. You hear that?” She stopped talking and cocked her head, Dean leaned closer to the laptop speakers afraid to turn the volume up and disturb his brother again. The faint sounds of a woman sobbing could be heard. River turned away from the men and hurried back to the main room, the camera toting investigators close on her heels. They skidded to a halt and the cameras struggled to focus on a figure standing in the middle of the room. The woman had her back turned towards the camera, her nightgown soiled and torn, her blonde hair caked in blood. 

“Please…please someone help me,” the figure cried quietly, her shoulders shaking with each sob.

“We can help you, it’s ok. It’ll be ok,” River took a cautious step towards the figure. The woman shuffled her feet, the movement obviously causing her intense pain. River took a deep breath in as the woman faced her, her eyes were swollen and bruised, her lips cracked and dark, purple welts around her neck. “Joan…Joan Wallace. I know who you are, I am so sorry for whatever happened to you but I want to help you…” The cameras zoomed in on River and the spirit. “Tell me where he is…” The woman opened her mouth and screamed. Thick, black ooze bubbled out of her mouth and dribbled down her chin and onto her nightgown. Another figure appeared before them, this woman appeared to be much younger but like the first spirit she was also badly beaten, clothes torn and a chain padlocked around her neck. 

“Thats Sandra Johnson. River, get the away from them!” Ed yelled. 

River ignored him and tried reaching out towards the spirits, “I can help you!” The ghosts stopped screaming and stared at River, “Wait…wait. Don’t-“ The spirit of Sandra Johnson ran at River, disappearing as it slammed into her. River let go of her shotgun and it clattered to floor. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she started twitching before she collapsed onto the floor next to her gun. The Ghostfacers screamed causing Sam to stir again on the bed across from Dean. 

“Dean, damn it…do you have to watch that shit right next to me.” He grumbled, pulling his pillow over his head trying to muffle the sound.

“It’s not porn. It’s River,” Dean answered not looking up from the glowing laptop screen. 

Sam sat up on his elbow and cocked his head, “What?”

“Riv’s hunting with those idiot Ghostfacers.” Dean watched on the screen as River finally stood back up and faced the camera, black ooze leaked from her eye and the corner of her mouth. “And she’s just been possessed by a ghost. Great.” Sam got off his bed and sat next to his brother to watch the rest of the episode. On the screen, Ed and Harry were yelling jumbled questions at River, who ignored them and walked to the giant stone fireplace at the far end of the room. Her body twitched every few seconds as she knelt down and started running her hands along the fireplace. 

“River what the hell are you do-“ Harry yelled, his voice high pitched and panicky. River found the stone she had been searching for and pulled it out. She dropped the stone on the floor and reached into the hole it had left pulling out a rusted key ring that she gripped tightly. Ed and Harry continued yelling at her but River brushed past them and walked back down the long hallway towards the master bedroom. Ed and Harry ran behind her, their cameras shaking and swaying. They stopped abruptly and let out a terrified yell when another ghost appeared right in front of them. Like the previous ghosts, this woman was covered in bruises and dried blood, black ooze dripped out of her open mouth and she sobbed, “Help me, help me”. The Ghostfacers inched around the spirit, careful not to touch her or let themselves be touched and rushed after River. 

They found her on her hands and knees on the wood floor in the center of the master bedroom. She was pulling at one of the boards, her finger tips growing bloody from the effort. “River, can you hear us?” Ed yelled. River gave one final jerk on the board and it broke free from the floor. The cameras crowded around her, zooming in and revealing a hidden keyhole. River chose a key from the ring and placed it in the lock, this in turn freed a mechanism under the floor and a trap door swung up on rusted hinges revealing steep, narrow steps leading into darkness. “What’s that smell?….I’m not going down there,” Harry muttered as River climbed silently down, her red hair quickly being swallowed by the blackness. 

“Come on man, do it for the viewers,” Ed told him. They high-fived each other and followed the hunter. The stairs ended on a dirt floor, a hidden basement roughly the same area as the house upstairs. The camera panned on the twitchy, retreating form of River as she walked further into the darkness near the back of the house. “Ughh, it smells down here.” Ed muttered. The cameras switched to night vision, Ed and Harry were lit up in an eerie green light as they scanned the hidden cellar for River. 

“River!” Ed hissed.

“He-Here,” River yelled from the darkness. She started coughing and retching in the darkness. Ed and Harry ran in the darkness towards her voice. A flashlight clicked on and it was nearly blinding in the pitch black. River sat on the dirt ground in front of another hidden room, wiping black sludge off her mouth and waiving her flashlight. “Where’s my gun?” she asked as Ed and Harry approached her.

Harry held out her shotgun, “What is that stuff?” he pointed to the black liquid River had vomited up.

“Ectoplasm. Got hijacked by a ghost.” She stood on shaky legs and double checked that her shotgun was still loaded. “So…I’m gonna unlock this big scary door and see whats on the other side.” She twirled the rusted ring of keys around her finger before turning towards the metal door. 

The door screeched loudly in the silent basement as River pulled it open. The familiar stench of death washed over them in a thick wave causing Ed and Harry to gag. River stepped inside the room, swinging her flashlight and shotgun from left to right. The walls were covered in some sort of thick foam, a cord hung down from the ceiling and River pulled it. One bare lightbulb flicked to life and illuminated Michael Ainsworth’s torture chamber. “Oh fuck…” River breathed. Thick plastic sheeting separated parts of the room. One panel of of the plastic had dark brown stains splattered on it, stacks of large plastic totes lined one wall, dozens of Polaroid pictures were stuck to another wall and in the middle of the room was a bloated body; a chain leading from its neck to a post stuck in the dirt floor. “Don’t film her!” River yelled as Harry crept closer to the body. The cameras immediately backed off and followed the redhead around the room instead. Ed and Harry were babbling over one another, the cameras shaking as they filmed the scene in front of them. River walked to the stack of plastic totes and opened one of them, a decayed broken body had been shoved inside. “He’s save them. His collection…” The camera zoomed in on River’s wide blue eyes. The lightbulb flickered and then went out, the cameras instantly transitioning back to night vision. The grainy footage showed River pulling supplies out of her backpack and barking orders at Ed and Harry, “Salt circle now!” Several spirits flickered into the frame, all women, all bloody and broken watching the Ghostfacers and the hunter silently.

“God damn it, Princess. Get the hell out of there,” Dean muttered at the laptop. Michael Ainsworth appeared in the darkness, his angular features exaggerated by the Ghostfacers night vision cameras. He swatted one the men into the foam padded walls, the camera tumbling to the floor. The video used creative editing at this point and showed two different views, one from the discarded camera and the other from the still standing Ghostfacer. River went flying in the next frame and slammed into the stack of plastic totes with a muffled “Oomph”. Ainsworth stalked towards her and pulled her out of the mess of broken plastic and bodies by her hair. 

“You’ll be a nice addition to my collection,” he seethed at her.

“You sure you want me? I’m no where near mint condition,” she smiled up at the spirit. He picked her up and threw her across the room where she flew through the thick plastic sheets and into darkness beyond the range of the camera.

“Hey! Leave her alone,” Ed yelled, Harry’s camera panned wildly before finding his friend. Ed pointed Rivers shotgun at the murderous spirit and fired, breaking it apart in a cloud of yellowish smoke. 

“I found Ainsworth!” River’s voice called out. The men scrambled for their cameras and rushed towards her voice. They pushed through the plastic sheet and found River sprinkling a body with salt. Ainsworth’s body was sitting on the ground, leaning against a wall, his own shotgun still propped between his feet, the back of his head gone and his dried brain matter painting the walls. 

“What’s that symbol mean?” Harry pointed his camera at the ground, a strange symbol had been painted on to the ground and Ainsworth sat within it.

“Binding sigil. He used himself as a blood sacrifice, tied his spirit to the house and bound all his victims. None of them can escape; he can keep hurting them forever….Ed, he’s back!” Dean and Sam watched as Ainsworth attacked again, The Ghostfacers flying in one direction and River in the opposite. Ainsworth went after the men this time, swinging huge fists into Ed’s face, Rivers shotgun lost somewhere in the darkness. River struggled to her feet, pulling a knife out of her boot and ran back to the sigil painted on the floor. They watched as she used the blade to scratch through the sigil breaking Ainsworth’s binding. 

“Hey asshole!” she yelled. The spirit stopped his assault on Ed and turned towards the woman. She held a lit book of matches and a bottle of lighter fluid. “Enjoy Hell!” The spirit screamed and erupted into flames. “You guys ok?” River helped the Ghostfacers stand and gave them a reassuring smile. “You did good…. Lets get the hell outta here.” The three limped out of the murder room and straight into a crowd of at least 30 spirits. Ainsworth’s victims stared silently, their faces bruised, clothes bloody.

“What do we do?” Harry whispered frantically. 

“Nothing. There’s too many,” River stepped towards the silent ghosts. “ We helped you. You’re free, he can’t hurt you anymore.” The first spirit stepped forward, it was Sandra Johnson the young woman still chained to the floor in the room behind them. She held out her hand towards River. The hunter mimicked the movement and their hands barely brushed before the ghost turned into a swirling blue light and zoomed up through the ceiling. One by one the remaining spirits touched Rivers hand before disappearing. 

“Holy shit dude,” Sam whispered.

“Where did-where did they go?” Ed asked. River turned away from the camera and wiped her face.

“Heaven…I need some fresh air.” River walked abruptly away from the cameras and back up the steep staircase. 

Post Investigation

“What the hell…this is gonna make us famous!” Harry and Ed high fived each other again at the top of the stairs. “Where the hell did River go?” They walked slowly back through the house, cameras peering into empty rooms but River was in none of them. 

“-You made that decision!…-I have a heaven?” Rivers voice echoed from somewhere deeper in the house. 

Ed and Harry’s faces appeared on screen again. “Maybe she’s still ghost possessed?”

“—you brought me back….—-made me stay here…-have nothing here!…De-…hate you.”

“River?” Ed called out. 

River walked out of the dark kitchen, “Get that fucking camera out of my face.” She pushed the camera away.

“Who are you talking to?”

“No one. I’m leaving. Here’s a phone, call the cops. There’s a lot of families that deserve answers.” She walked quickly towards the front door. 

“Are you ok?” Ed called after her.

“No,” she yelled over her shoulder. The video showed her climbing back into her Camaro and speeding down the dirt road.

Dean stopped the video and stared at the screen for a few minutes. “You think I should call her?” he asked his younger brother, “Make sure she’s ok?” 

Sam shrugged, “I don’t know man.” Dean pulled out his phone after a moment of indecisiveness and called River. The phone rang several times before going to voicemail; This is River’s phone. You’re probably trying to reach Dean or Sam. Leave your name, number and nightmare and I’ll try and make sure they get the message. Dean ended the call without leaving a message, “Forget it. Let’s get some sleep, it’s a long drive to Louisiana.”


	17. chapter 17

CH 17

The giant, crumbling antebellum mansion had been all but hidden by ancient over grown weeping willows. It was an ideal den for the loup-garou River was hunting. Loup-garou were close cousins to the basic werewolf except they were larger, stronger and meaner then the average wolf. Once transformed they tended to stay wolfed-out and according to the pages River had copied out of John Winchester’s journal preferred to live solitary lives. Unlike werewolves they tended to keep most of their human cunningness even when transformed. They were known to lure their victims into traps, dragging out the hunt as long as possible before taking their kill.

Thump-thump, thump-thump. River could hear the echoing paw falls of the wolf as it padded down the short hallway towards her hiding spot. From the cadence it sounded like the wolf was still walking on all fours, no doubt to keep its snout close to the floor to sniff out her location. She gripped her pistol tightly, straining to hear above her own thundering heart. Thump-thump. A board creaked heavily half way down the hallway and River surmised the wolf was now standing on its hind legs. The wolf sniffed the air and growled lowly.She peeked around the corner, the wolfs head was just visible over the armoire that was half sunken through the termite eaten wood floor.

“Come on, Fido. Five more steps….” she thought to herself. Thump-thump. She licked her dry lips and readjusted her grip on her gun. The slight movement caused the floor under her to creak. “Fuck…” she whispered. The loup-garou growled again and loped forward. River scrambled away from the doorjamb and lined up her shot. Thump-thump. She fired, the silver bullet found its mark and the wolf died mid jump. It’s forward momentum causing it to slide the last few feet of the hall way and bump into Rivers boots. She let out a shaky breath, tucked her pistol into her holster and wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans. Normally she would drag the body out of the house and burn it. But the sun had barely risen two hours ago and it was already at least 80 degrees outside. The heat and humidity was making her sweat in places ladies don’t discuss. “You can just stay here and rot, Rover. I’m gonna go find some air conditioning.”

River walked outside and climbed into her stolen car, blasting the A/C as soon as she started the engine. She aimed all the vents at her and tried to dry her armpits before turning the car around and heading back down the long dirt drive way. She hummed along to Johnny Cash and glanced at the huge drooping trees on her left. Something had caught her eye and she checked the rearview mirror as she drove past. Nothing but trees behind her. Her peripheral vision caught more movement and she turned her head in time to see two dark shapes charging towards her car. The next moment the shapes slammed into the passenger side of her small car, she lost her grip on the steering wheel as the car tumbled over and over down a steep embankment. She had no time to scream, no time to panic. The car slammed into a huge tree and everything went black. 

Dripping, growling, scratching…noises woke her. River opened her eyes with some difficulty. Johnny Cash crooned woefully from damaged speakers, a soft white pillow was pressing into her face and she slowly realized she was hanging upside down. She punched at the airbag causing it to deflate and turned her head checking her surroundings. Her car had come to rest on its roof, the thick trunk of a tree was visible through the driver side window, the front windshield was cracked but not completely shattered. The car rocked suddenly as something heavy jumped on it. River let out a startled cry and was answered with growls. She fumbled for a moment, pulling on her seatbelt before finding the release button. “Ow!” she fell in a heap, landing on her shoulder and a pile of broken glass. Her gun was laying on the roof/ground beside the passenger side window. More snuffling from outside, the car rocked as if pushed. The dripping sound continued and River got a whiff of gasoline. 

Without warning the passenger side window crashed inwards as a loup-garou smashed through the glass. River screamed again, scrambling backwards and raising her gun. The wolf snapped its huge jaws and swiped murderous claws at her but it was too big to fit through the small window. She raised her gun and fired a silver bullet between its eyes. The beast fell dead instantly, still stuck in the window. Another ferocious growl announced a third wolf, River edged towards the back of the car as the third wolf crashed through the front windshield. She scrambled on the metal roof of the car, over broken glass and jutting pieces of metal desperately trying to get away from the monster. The wolf forced its way through the windshield and got tangled in the hanging seat belts. River fired once more, hitting this wolf in the shoulder. It snarled in anger and frustration, snapping its jaws at the seatbelts. “God damn it…” she reached the back window that had stubbornly decided not to break and kicked it. A fracture appeared, she kicked again trying to ignore the wolfs continued snarling. On the third kick the glass shattered. River grabbed her duffle bag and wiggled through the jagged hole she had created. She screamed as her thigh caught on sharp piece of metal or glass. She scuttled away from the car as the wolf snapped through one of the belts entangling it. River quickly aimed her gun and fired, the pin snapping on an empty shell. The stench of gasoline made her eyes water and River noticed the oily sheen in the soft earth. She reached into her jacket pocket, searching for the lighter that should be there. Her fingers grasped the cold metal just as the wolf snapped through another belt. It climbed forward, its size forcing it to crouch between the seats. She ran her thumb along the flint wheel, praising whatever god was on her side today as it caught instantly. The little blue flame sprung into being and she tossed it into the puddle of gasoline. The fire caught with a ‘woosh’ and engulfed the car within seconds. River painfully pushed herself further away from the heat until her back hit a fallen log and watched as the the loup-garou howled then screamed as the fire engulfed it. 

The shaky adrenaline feeling wore off quickly as the searing pain from the wound in her thigh brought her back to reality. Her jeans had a ragged hole far up on her thigh, most of her pant leg was already wet and dark with her blood. She pulled a spare shirt out of her bag and tore it into a long strip. Then tied the shirt tightly around the wound, hissing at the pain. 

“Fucking humidity, fucking bugs…so fucking hot,” River muttered angrily to herself slapping at another mosquito. The sun was at its precipice and the bugs were out in full force. She limped along the road, hiding behind trees or shrubs when she heard any approaching cars. She was down to a handful of bullets and a knife; probably not enough if something big wanted to try and kill her again. “Food, gas, cold drinks 1 mile…” a weather beaten sign appeared on the side of the road. 

The small gas station appeared like a mirage, glimmering into existence as the heat rose off the asphalt. River snuck around the back and found the restroom with a hand written “Out of Order” sign taped to the door. She shouldered her way in and locked the door behind her. The ancient fluorescent light hummed to life and the water that came out of the tap eventually changed from rust colored to clear. River slid down the cool tile wall and sat on the floor exhausted. Her chest ached with each breath from the contusion caused by the seatbelt, her hands throbbed with stuck pieces of glass but she was alive. “Quit fucking whining.” She muttered to herself. River dug through her bag until she found her first aid kit and a bottle of whiskey. The bandage around her thigh was soaked in blood. She shimmied out of her ruined jeans and inspected the wound fully. It wasn’t as big as she had thought but definitely was deep. With one hand she pressed the remainder of her makeshift bandage onto the wound and with the other she opened the bottle of whiskey. She took one long swallow of whiskey then poured some on the wound, “God fucking damn it!” she hissed, her leg kicking out. The first few stitches hurt the worst then all the pain blended together until it became nothing more than a red throb behind her eyes. 

“Suck it Winchester. My stitches are flawless.” River inspected the now closed wound, the vibrant pink, bubble gum flavored dental floss she had used to stitch the hole closed stood in stark contrast to the pale skin of her thigh. She laid her head back against the tile letting the pain lull her into unconsciousness.

“You got to know when to hold ‘em/ know when to fold ‘em/ know when to walk away/and know when to run”

River startled awake, Kenny Rogers voice blaring from her phone. She fumbled with the phone, her blood covered fingers smearing the touchscreen. “Damn it,” she wiped her fingers on the one clean spot on her shirt. “Hey, Bobby…What’s up Papa Bear?” 

“Hey sweetheart, haven’t heard from you in a few days. You still in Louisiana?” Bobby’s gruff voice echoed over the phone. 

River stretched and adjusted her stiff muscles, glanced around the dingy restroom. Her ruined bloody clothes still in a pile by the door. She sat half naked on the dirty floor where she had passed out. “Yeah, I’m still in Louisiana…and just FYI Loup-garou are in fact pack animals so John Winchester can posthumously eat a dick for getting that wrong.” She picked up the bottle of Whiskey and took another sip. Wincing as the liquor burned down her throat.

“Well hell girl. I could’a told ya that. How many’d you get?”

“Three. You just checking in Bobby? You’re not usually one for small talk.”

River heard him sigh deeply as he sat back in his favorite chair. “You heard from Sam or Dean lately?”

“Nope…we aren’t exactly on speaking terms at the moment. Why?”

“They were down in Lafourche Parish finishing a case. They called and said they were done, everything was good and they were heading to Vegas for some R and R. That was four days ago. They haven’t called to check in, they ain’t answering their cellphones…”

River blew out a deep breath, “So they’re on a bender, Bobby…”

“No, damn it. Something ain’t right. I can’t find ‘em. I ain’t as good at those tracking spells and cellphone pinging as y’all are but they are gone. Even that damn angel, Castiel can’t find ‘em They are off the damn map…I need you to try and find ‘em.”

“God damn it, Bobby. Get someone else to round them up!” River spat.

“Who? No one else gives a damn about those boys…I know you and Dean didn’t end things on good terms-“ River laughed humorlessly. “But…I know you aren’t the type of person to let them rot in some unmarked grave somewhere…”

River thumped her head back against the tile, “What am I supposed to do, Bobby?… What do I do if they’re dead?”

“You do your damn job!” He yelled into the phone before disconnecting the call. 

“Shit!” River yelled, kicking out at the overfull metal trashcan in front of her. It clattered to the floor, spilling a pile of dirty paper towels onto the bloody ground. She got unsteadily to her feet and limped towards the dirty porcelain sink. She washed her bloody hands in the cool water before splashing some onto her face and then taking a long swallow from the faucet. The cracked mirror above the sink revealed a shiner under her left eye, a long strip of angry looking red and purple bruises from the seatbelt and too many nicks and cuts from the shattered glass to count. She combed her fingers through her hair and quickly piled it into a topknot then dug through her duffle for some clean clothes. She shrugged back into her jacket and walked out of the gas station restroom. The sun was much lower on the horizon, apparently she had slept for a few hours. 

She limped to the front of the building and leaned against the wall. Three cars were parked at the pumps, all three owners dutifully standing next to their cars as they pumped gas. One by one each car pulled away from the station. Fifteen minutes later a huge Rubicon jeep pulled up to a pump, the driver got out and ran inside the convince store. The car was still running. River casually glanced around and walked quickly up to the jeep, she checked the rear of the car making sure their were no kids or anyone hiding in the backseat. Seeing no one, she climbed into the car, threw it into gear and raced away from the gas station. The owner of the car rushing out a second later screaming.

River pulled over twenty miles later and dug out a small velvet pouch from her duffle bag. She unfurled a long silver chain on the end of which dangled a lite blue crystal. She hung the chain from the rear view mirror and it swung in small circles. “Iad a Aimsiu” she whispered. The crystal started swinging in a bigger circle. “Iad a Aimsiu! Find them!” she yelled. The crystal stopped swinging and finally chose a direction, pulling at the chain in an easterly heading. “Thank you,” she muttered pulling the car back onto the road. The crystal acted as her compass and she followed the slight shifts in it’s direction; the sun was setting as the Jeep trundled along a dirt road. The crystal suddenly swung to the right and River barely had time to turn the wheel, pulling off onto a nearly hidden road. “Can’t read my/ can’t read my/ no he can’t read my poker…shit!” she slammed on the breaks causing the Jeep to rock forward on it’s shocks. Something metal and shiny had reflected off the headlights of her stolen car. 

She grabbed her gun, jumped out of the car and cautiously crept back up the road towards the abandoned car. Baby sat just off the dirt road, tucked behind a giant cluster of kudzu. River crept around front of the car, it was empty. No sign of the Winchesters in or around the car. “Shit,” she muttered angrily. She placed her hands on the trunk and whispered, “Oscail.” The trunk popped open and she sorted through Deans arsenal. She grabbed another pistol, a half dozen clips, holy water and a few hex bags. “Where the hell are you?” She slammed the trunk closed and searched through the dark trees. A faint glimmer of light was just visible through a wall of kudzu and caught her eye. She slapped at another mosquito and walked towards the light.

An old, weather-beaten barn and shack quickly came into view. The light was coming from the barn, an ancient generator chugging away outside. River crept silently to the barn, glancing through gaps in the wood. She could hear faint voices coming from somewhere inside. 

“We need to finish this, Rene.” A figure walked right in front of the gap River was peering through. She sat back further in the shadows and waited for the figure to pass. When it did she got a clear view into the middle of the barn. Sam and Dean were tied to two large tables, their hands strapped above their heads, neither brother moved and she couldn’t tell if they were even breathing. 

“I know, get the gauntlet and lets be done with them. Our master has been patient enough,” a second voice answered. 

River chewed her bottom lip for a moment, weighing her next move. “Fuck it,” she mouthed silently. She turned and ran from the barn.

“Hurry up! The moon is risen…what is that noise?” The figures turned towards the far wall of their barn, a rumbling sound was quickly growing louder along with faint sounds of music.

River pushed the accelerator down and turned the music up, singing along with Freddie Mercury, “Come tonight….come to the ogre site…come to the ogre-battle-fight!” The jeep crashed through the wall of the barn and continued barreling towards the figures standing confused in the center. River slammed into the figures, the jeep bumping grotesquely as one body was thrown under its wheels. The second person, an old woman with long white hair and a dirty dress was caught on the hood. Screaming and cursing as the jeep carried her forward before slamming into an ancient tractor parked along the opposite wall. The airbag didn’t deploy this time and River’s head smacked painfully off the steering wheel. She sat dazed for a moment trying to focus on the woman that was pinned between her car and the tractor. Amazingly she was still alive, blood bubbling out of her mouth and she clawed at the crumpled hood. River climbed unsteadily out of the jeep and fired two quick shots into the witches head. She stopped her muttering and sagged lifelessly on the hood.

River tried taking a deep breath the pain in her ribs and chest burning from the seatbelt. She walked towards the still twitching, crumpled body in the center of the barn and shot it twice also. The twitching stopped. She turned then to the two silent, still figures tied to the dirty wood tables. Her hands shook as she looked down into their pale faces. She reached her fingers out to Dean first, sliding them softly down his neck until she found his carotid artery. She moaned in relief feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart. She turned to check Sam as well when movement behind her caused her to spin on her heels. A young woman bolted from behind a piece of farm equipment and ran towards the hole River had created when she crashed into the barn. She aimed quickly and shot the retreating figured in the leg. The woman screamed and fell to the hay covered ground writhing and grabbing at her calf.

“Please…please.” The stranger held out her bloody hands in surrender as River approached, gun raised.

“You human or their familiar?” River asked.

“Hu-human…please don’t kill me.”   
“How old are you?” River stared at the young woman. Her features were soft and delicate, the complete opposite of the wrinkled crone that lay dead on the hood of her car.

“Seventeen.”

“What did you do to those men?”

The young woman grabbed at her calf again and cried, “Help me, you shot me!”

River bent down in front of the young witch and squeezed the bullet wound causing her to scream in pain, “What did you do to those men?”

“A spell. I’ll show you, please…the book is in the house.”

“Are there anymore in your coven?” River asked the young woman. She shook her head ‘no’. “Get up, show me the book. You try anything and I will end you. Understand?” She nodded.

River pulled the woman up and gripped her tightly around the arm, dragging her towards the small decrepit house next to the barn. The young woman led her into a back room; an altar took up most of the back wall, unfamiliar markings and sigils were painted on the walls, animal bones littered the ground. The witches grimoire lay open on a small table, the young woman limped up to it and turned the ancient pages until she found the correct spell. “This is the one Rene used.” 

River stared at the page quietly for a moment, “What is this…Romanian? A sleeping spell. Really? What the hell were you gonna do with them?” She muttered reading the spell and trying to remember the counter spell. Her attention turned away from the young witch as she muttered quietly to herself.

“Sange Mor-“ the witches spell was cut short when River shot her in the head. The witches head snapped back with the force of the bullet and she fell to the floor in a bloody heap. The hunter didn’t look up from the book as she continued trying to decipher the language. 

“Ficat….shit is that liver or heart,” she mumbled to herself. River scooped up the grimoire and searched the rest of the house for anything useful. She left with a small wood box full of ingredients, books and a hex box with a gnarled hand inside. She made the short walk back to the barn and cut the brothers free from the ropes the bound them. Then she searched Deans pockets until she found the key to the Impala. “Stay here boys, I’ll be right back.” She called to their sleeping forms as she jogged back to the waiting car. A few minutes later she returned with Baby, letting her idle right outside the barn, too afraid to drive through the jagged Jeep sized hole and possibly scratch Baby’s paint. “Alright you first, Sammy.” She grabbed the huge man under the arms and heaved him off the table as gently as possible then drug him to the waiting car. “You freaking brontosaurs… come on!” she yelled as she pulled Sam into the backseat. She got him positioned on the seat so he at least looked somewhat comfortable then went back for Dean. “Alright, hot stuff. You get shotgun.” 

Before leaving she doused the house and barn in gasoline and lit everything on fire. The orange glow reflected in the rear view mirror as she drove away, Dean and Sam still unconscious but alive. “You still got my mix tape, D?” she asked looking over at Dean where he lay slumped against the window, snoring softly. She dug around the glove box before clucking her tongue triumphantly, pulling out the tape labeled Rivers awesome mix. She popped it into the tape deck and was rewarded with Michael Graves singing ‘Fiend Club’. She sang along loudly pointing at Dean and Sam when the lyrics suggested they were in fact not part of the Fiend club.


	18. chapter 18

Ch 18

“Dean, wake up!” Sam shook his older brother by the shoulders and yelled in his face. Dean was in the middle of a particularly pornographic dream involving him, River and a hot tub. His green eye shot open and he sat up quickly yelling “Hi-ya!” throwing his hands out in his best kung-fu stance. Sam blocked the punch and stood up, “Relax dude it’s me.”

“Sammy? What the hell is going on?” Dean asked looking up at his younger brother. He was laying on the floor of what appeared to be a cabin. The room was decorated with wood cut outs of black bears and pine trees. An old TV sat in one corner, one queen sized bed in front of it, a threadbare couch in the opposite corner and a door to what they could surmise was the bathroom was behind them.

The brothers glanced down at themselves, they were naked from the chest up, symbols and markings painted on both their chests. Dean ran his finger along the red markings and held it up to his nose. He sniffed and grimaced when he recognized the copper tang of blood.

“What the hell is all this stuff?” Dean asked aloud as he walked to the table in the center of the room, it was littered with jars of dried flowers, candles and a dissected human liver.

“Dean, how did we get here? The last thing I remember we were looking for that alligator jerky stand and…then those women. You think they were witches?”

“I don’t know maybe. Where the hell are we?”

“Ponderosa Cabins in Murfreesboro, Tennessee.” Sam said holding up a pamphlet he found in the chipped nightstand. He joined his brother to stand in front of the table and stared at the magical paraphernalia and their discarded guns.

“Shit! How’d we get here?…Where’s my Baby?” Dean suddenly yelled, searching through his jean pockets for his keys. “Son of a bitch. If one of those bitches stole my car…” he ran to the window and peered outside. It was pitch black, no signs of his beloved car. “Wait…shh. Kill the lights.” Dean waived at his younger brother. He ran back to the table and grabbed his gun. The Impalas engine roared outside the cabin, along with blaring music. The car swung around and the driver backed into the parking spot, shut off the lights and stepped out into the darkness. Dean signaled to his brother; Sam stood behind the door and he waited on the other side giving them the perfect position to ambush the stranger. They could hear quiet cursing from outside the door as the intruder fought with the lock. The knob turned and Sam yanked on the door, pulling the person on the other side along with the door. The stranger let out a startled scream as Dean grabbed her around the throat and slammed her into the wall. Sam turned the lights back on and River smirked up at Dean.

“Hey, Winchester…you’re not supposed to be awake yet.” Dean’s hands started to shake, he lowered his gun and seemed to be having trouble speaking.

“River, Jesus Christ…” Sam pushed past his brother and pulled her into a tight hug. 

“Ow!” she yelped. Sam quickly let go and took a look at her. She was still clinging to a paper take out bag. Her forehead had an ugly purple gash and her cheek was bruised. “Sorry, I’m ok. Just have a few broken ribs….I brought food. How about you two get cleaned up and we can eat? Your covered in witch-liver finger paint.” She pointed at the red symbols on their chests. 

Sam looked down at his chest and sneered, “Thats gross.”

“Yeah it is but it worked,” River laughed. Sam hugged her again and kissed her forehead before running towards the shower yelling “Dibs.”

Dean still stared at her wordlessly. He took a small step towards her and lightly ran his fingers along the bruises on River’s face before tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. He leaned towards her, staring at her lips. She put her hands on his chest and pushed him away. “The fuck you think you’re doing?”

“I-I just…I’m sorry,” he mumbled at her. 

“It’s not good enough. We are not ok, Dean. This a professional fucking courtesy and nothing else.” 

He nodded. “What happened to me and Sam? To you?”

“Bobby called me. Said he couldn’t find you, Castiel couldn’t find you either. I tracked you two to a shack in the middle of nowhere swampland. Killed a couple witches and blah blah blah here we all are.”

“How did you track us if Castiel couldn’t find us?” Dean asked as River walked to the table and began putting the spell supplies away.

She smiled, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks, “So, the way most tracking spells work is you’re tracking for the person, the body. And the way most blocking spells work, its like creating a force field around your physical body right? It’s what Sam did to keep me from finding him while you were dead.” Dean nodded. “Well, I thought about that a lot. What if something happened and we got separated and I couldn’t find you guys…so I figured: well what if instead of using a tracking spell, I could use a spell to find a lost item. Maybe a couple of small charms… that could be sewn into very large men’s boots.”

“That is strangely ingenious.” Dean said smiling at her.

“I have my moments.” River looked over her shoulder as Sam exited the bathroom, showered and free of witch blood. “Your turn. Beer’s in the fridge and I’m gonna go outside and burn this.” She held up the tray containing the left over liver and limped outside. She returned a few minutes later, Sam was pulling food out of the take-out bags and had beers open and waiting. 

Dean was staring down at the hex box, “What the hell is that?” A mummified hand lay inside the box, it was adorned with jewels and intricate tattoos.

“I think it’s Hekate’s gauntlet.” 

Dean stared at her, raising his eyebrows, “Sorry, what?”

“It’s like a Hand of Glory, except instead of being the hand of a murdered man it’s the hand of a witch. One that was executed for betraying her coven. All her power is focused into that thing. It’s an immense weapon so don’t touch it. I can’t figure out how to destroy it so I called Levi, he’s got a couple ideas. I’m gonna take it to him.” She put the lid back on the box. “What the hell would three swamp witches being doing with something like this? And speaking of, what the hell where you two idiots doing out there anyways? Bobby said you were supposed to be going to Vegas.”

“Went looking for alligator jerky.” Dean answered smiling cockily at her.

“Sam, seriously?” River asked exasperated turning away from Dean.

“Yeah, that’s basically it. We were finishing up a quick case. Dean found a flier for some place that was selling alligator jerky and we must’ve taken a wrong turn and walked right into that coven.”

“Hmmm….” River shook her head and laughed at them, "I don’t think they even knew who you were, probably didn’t even know you were hunters. I didn’t ask them any questions I just kind of…murdered them and torched everything when I left. They had an altar with sigils I didn’t recognize; figured it was some demon cock they were pining for. Didn’t seem like anything major, not a seal or anything.” She bit into her veggie burger and washed it down with a mouthful of beer. “What’ve you guys been up to? The world still gonna end?”

“Who knows? Angels won’t give us any straight answers.” Dean said. They spent the next few hours catching up, River and Sam carrying most of the conversation. Dean sat quietly, adding details when he thought they were important. River wasn’t exactly ignoring him but also wasn’t making an effort to talk directly to him. She glazed over her near death encounter with the Loup-garou pack. Dean watched as she readjusted every so often on the hard plastic seat and tried to hide the flicker of pain that crossed her face, watched as she held the cold beer bottles up to her swollen cheek and forehead and smiled at the brief relief it offered. 

“So…you got anymore guest appearances we should know about?” Sam asked as he stood to clean up their left over food wrappers.

River spluttered on her beer and grew beet red, staring from Dean to Sam, “You watched the Ghostfacers episode?” The brothers nodded and grinned, “Shit, I figured you two would never see that…”

“You kicked ass, ‘Hey Asshole! Enjoy Hell!’ that was awesome.” Dean said quietly. 

River glanced quickly at him. “Yeah…Ghost possession that wasn’t very awesome. She showed me everything. Hell’s too good for that bastard.” She peeled nervously at the label on her beer. “I’m gonna get a shower and go to bed.” She got up stiffly from the table and grabbed some clean clothes out of her bag before limping into the bathroom, “There’s a pull-out in the couch and I can take the trundle bed.”

“Bullshit, Riv. You saved our asses you get the bed, I’ll be fine on the trundle.” Dean said as she closed the bathroom door. “Dude, she’s hurt. Maybe bad.” He said turning to his younger brother.

“She’ll be ok, for tonight at least. We’ll be here with her if she needs anything.” Sam answered pulling the couch bed out and gingerly testing his weight on the squeaky frame. Once he was satisfied it wouldn’t buckle under him, Sam put his earbuds in and fell asleep quickly. 

“Fu-..shit. God damn it,” River’s cursing echoed from with in the bathroom and Dean sat up from his position on the floor. He had tried the trundle but he had ended up sinking uncomfortably to the ground. In the end he pulled the small mattress onto the floor and was using his duffle bag as a pillow, leaning against it and using River’s laptop to look on-line for interesting cases. 

“River, you ok sweetheart?” he called gently through the door, twisting the knob at the same time.

“Yes! Jesus, don’t come in I’m still naked…” More cursing and hissing from the bathroom. “Fuck it! It’s nothing you haven’t seen. I need my first aid kit please.” Dean ran back to the bed and rummaged through her bag before pulling out her requested kit.

“I’m comin’ in,” He warned before opening the door. Dean slowly pushed the door open and found River sitting on the closed toilet lid, she had managed to get her underwear on and that was it. The full extant of her injuries was finally visible. Her chest was covered with the angry welts from the seat belts, smalls scabbed cuts covered her arms and back and her thigh was bleeding.

“I popped a stitch in the shower and I can’t get my stupid shirt back on,” she mumbled. 

Dean knelt in front of her, “River, what the hell? What did you do?”

“It’s been a rough couple of days, ok? Just…just help me get my shirt on. I can do the rest.”

“I’ll fix your leg,” he said gingerly helping her slip her sleep shirt over her head.

“No. I got it,” she replied taking the kit out of his hand.

“Riv-“

“I don’t want you touching me. Ok? Just get out. I got it from here,” she looked into Dean’s green eyes, “Please.” Dean nodded and stood up closing the door quietly behind him. River limped out of the bathroom and into the dark room a while later. She glanced at Sam’s giant sleeping form on the couch bed and peered over her bed to Dean, he was laying on his side facing away from her. She climbed quietly into the bed and let out a deep sigh as she sunk into the soft mattress.

“Hey, River you want to go get some breakfast?” Sam called quietly to her the next morning.

She slowly opened her eyes, everything that hurt yesterday was a thousand times worse now. “Mmm, sure. I’ll get dressed.” She sat up stiffly, rolling her shoulders and grimacing, rubbing the throbbing in her chest. 

“You ok?” Sam asked when she walked back out of the bathroom a while later. Dean sat on the edge of the bed and watched her quietly. They had both heard her cursing at herself as she got dressed.

“Mmm hmm except everything hurts and I think I’m dying,” she answered sarcastically. “Here’s your keys, she has a full tank of gas.” She pulled the Impalas keys out of her jacket pocket and handed them to Dean. “Maybe after breakfast you guys can drop me off at a bus station. I told Levi I’d bring him this thing.” River said, tucking the hex box under her arm.

“Hell, no. You are beat to shit. There’s no way you could defend yourself right now. We’ll take you to Levi’s if thats what you want.” Dean told her.

“Dean I don’t-“

Dean cut her off, “Look, you don’t have to talk to me or look at me if you don’t want. But I- We are not letting you go on your own until you’re strong enough.”

River rolled her eyes at the brothers, “Fine. I want pancakes for breakfast.” 

After breakfast they made the ten hour drive to Levi’s. River sleeping curled up in the backseat for most of the drive. “River, what in the lords good name happened to you?” Levi said when the three hunters finally arrived at his small home.

“I’m fine. Really,” she gave him a quick hug. “Here, this thing gives me the creeps lets get rid of it.” She handed him the hex box as she and the Winchesters followed him inside. The pow-wow healer choose a scroll from his vast collection and walked to his the giant altar in his dining room. “I’m gonna make some coffee, ok?” River called from the kitchen. Sam stayed with Levi, fascinated at his brand of magic. Dean followed River into the small, nicely organized kitchen and pulled himself onto the counter. Watching as River bustled around making coffee, completely comfortable in Levi’s home. “What?” she finally asked after having enough of Dean’s eyes boring into her.

“Nothing… Bobby called when you were asleep. He’s got a case for us in Wyoming,” Dean said. “Small town where nobodies died in the last week.”

“Interesting,” she replied, “Get those coffee mugs for me. I can’t reach over my head quite yet.” 

Dean hopped off the counter, “As you wish.”

River turned to face him, “Don’t do that. Don’t fucking pretend like you didn’t say all that shit to me. That you didn’t fuck Anna on the backseat I just spent the last 10 hours sleeping on.”

“River-“ Dean placed his hand on her arm.

“No… I don’t want to do this right now. Go check out your case in Wyoming. Call me if you need backup,” she turned back to the coffee pot. 

“Sammy, lets go! We’re burning daylight!” Dean yelled walking quickly out of Levi’s house. The Impalas engine roared to life a moment later and the car sped away.


	19. chapter 19

Ch 19

“You ok?” Sam asked laughing at his older brother. Dean lay on his lumpy motel bed with a makeshift ice pack pressed to his temple. He had just had his ass royally handed to him, again, by Alastair the Grand Inquisitor of Hell. Apparently Alastair was somehow behind the lack of deaths in Greybull, Wyoming. Not that people shouldn’t be dead they just weren’t dying. A man who had been shot in the heart by a mugger was still walking around, a man with terminal liver cancer walked out of the hospital and took his wife out for their 20th anniversary, along with a handful of similar cases. 

“I think I have a concussion,” Dean said sitting up and groaning. “So, demons, huh?”

“Yeah, so much for miracles.”

Dean squinted and rubbed the knot on his temple, “Tell me what happened with Alastair again? I mean after he kicked my ass.”

“I told you, he tried to fling me or whatever,” Sam said walking to the coffee pot, “And it didn’t work. So he smoked out ASAP.”

Dean nodded, “Wonder why he couldn’t fling you? He did it pretty easy last time, sent you flying down a flight of stairs.”

“No idea.” Sam shrugged his shoulders.

“Look, Sam if you’re gonna keep you’re little secrets I can’t stop you, but don’t treat me like an idiot.”

“Dean, I’m not…I’m not keeping secrets.” Sam replied.

“Yeah, ok…did you at least go back and question the dead kid?”

“Didn’t have to. Bobby called. he thinks I’m right about the reaper.” 

“What? That the local reapers gone?” Dean asked, pressing the ice pack back against his aching head. 

“Not just gone, kidnapped,” Sam paused and pulled a notebook out of his back pocket, “Listen to this ‘And he bloodied death under the newborn sky, sweet to tase but bitter once devoured.”

“And that means exactly what?”

“Well, its from a very arcane version of Revelations and basically it means you kill a reaper on the solstice moon, which is tomorrow night by the way, you got yourself a broken seal.”

“How the hell do you kill a grim reaper?”

“No idea but I’m guessing the demons know how. I wanna know where the Angels are. We could use their help for once.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to handle this one on our own.” Dean answered. 

“Right, what are we gonna do Dean? Swing in and save the friendly neighborhood reaper?”

“You got a better idea? Because I’m all ears,” he replied.

“Dean, reapers are invisible. They can only be seen by the dead or dying.”

“Well, if ghosts are the only ones that can see reapers. Then I guess we gotta become ghosts.” Dean said smirking and pulling his cellphone out of his back pocket.

A heavy knock rang out at their front door several hours later. Dean checked the peephole before opening the door, “Hey, look at that they’re early.” He unlocked the door and opened it, allowing River and Pamela Brown, psychic extraordinaire to enter their motel room. “You look good, I mean your face…”

“Levi took pity on me when I couldn’t untie my boots. Sped up my healing a little bit,” River replied stepping into the room. “You two are fucking crazy. You know that.” she added throwing her duffle bag on the closest bed.

“What’s that make you then?” Dean replied.

River turned to face him, “Stupid. That makes me stupid.”

“Hey, Dean, can I talk to you for a moment?” Pam called from a corner of the room. 

“What’s up Pam?” 

Pam turned to face him, her curly brown hair framing her face, dark sunglasses hiding the scarred holes where her eyes used to be. She pulled her arm back and punched him hard in the shoulder, “You’re a stupid ass, thats whats up. How dare you? You jackass-“

“Pam, retract the claws. We have a job to do so lets do it,” River yelled. 

Pam took a deep breath through her nose, “Fine. Which one of you jackasses came up with astral projection?” 

Dean took a half step back and raised his hand nervously, “That would be me, the stupid ass.”

“Didn’t really have to ask did you, Pamela?” River said quietly.

“Let’s just all be clear about the plan, then,” Pamela continued, “You want me to rip your souls out of your bodies so you can take a stroll through the spirit realm.”

“Yeah, thats about it. That’s where the reaper is so that’s where we need to go,” Dean answered.

“You realize this is insane. You two have no idea what you’re doing,” Pam continued.

“No we don’t but you do,” Sam replied.

“I’m tired of being pulled back into your demon-angel bullshit,” the psychic yelled.

“Pam, it’s the freaking apocalypse. No more punk shows, no more rum and coke, no more big sunglasses,” River started, "It’s kind of everybody’s problem…please. If we can save the seal then we need to do this.” 

The psychic let out a deep breath and shook her head, “You’re all insane. Fine. Let’s do this. ”

The three hunters quickly prepared the room, closing the curtains and lighting incense and candles under Pam’s instructions. River checked her gun and nervously rubbed her hands together. “It’s gonna be ok,” Dean told her.

“You know you keep saying that like you actually believe it,” she told him. “It’s never ok…Can I have the knife? It’d make me feel a little better.”

“You’re not coming?” Sam asked her.

“And leave the blind woman to defend herself? No. I’ll stay upright and corporeal, thank you very much.” Sam nodded and handed her the demon killing knife, she took it and tucked it into her boot. “See you on the flip side.”

“Alright, will you two idiots lay down already,” Pam yelled at them. The Winchesters complied and lay down on their respective beds as Pamela started her incantation. River paced the room, checking out the window and peephole every few moments. “Okay, guys. Thats it,” Pam sighed and sat back in her chair.

A moment later Dean sat up and looked at Pamela and River, “Well, nothing like shootin’ blanks. Guess we oughta come up with a Plan B.” 

Pam and River ignored him, they seemed to be in the middle of their own discussion. “I woulda cut his balls off if he talked to me like that,” Pam said over her shoulder to River.

River smirked, “It’s not worth it. I knew what I was getting myself into… ” River looked back out the window. 

Sam sat up next to his brother and raised his eyebrows, “Guess it worked?”

“You still love him,” Pam continued. “It’s not a question, sweet pea. I see it, you can hide a lot of things from me but you can’t hide that.” Pam paused. “They’re up.” River turned to look at Dean’s sleeping form. “You guys are somewhere over the rainbow right now. Remember, I need to bring you back. So, hurry up.” The brothers left their bodies behind and ventured out into Greybull, Wyoming in their spirits forms. 

“River, quit pacing you’re making me nervous.” Pam harped from where she still sat at the foot of the Winchesters beds.

“Yeah, well demons make me nervous Pam. Dean and Sam acting out ‘Frightners’ makes me nervous. And being nervous makes me nervous…they’ve been gone for hours.”

Across town Sam and Dean had finally caught a break locating the spirit of Cole Griffith the spirit young boy that was the last person to die in Greybull. “Cole, what’s the last thing you remember?” Dean asked.

“I remember it was cold and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t yell to my mom for my inhaler. And then I was looking down at my body.” Cole answered quietly. He stood in the doorway of the dining room and watched the Winchesters warily.

“And that’s when you saw the man?” Sam asked.

Cole nodded, “Yeah, creepy old guy in a suit. Said I should go with him but I didn’t want to.” He glanced behind him and watched sadly as his mom opened another bottle of wine.

“How’d you get rid of him?” Dean asked.

“I didn’t. The black smoke did. It was everywhere, I hid in my closet and it surrounded the old guy and then they were both gone.” The lights in the house flickered causing Dean and Sam to look around. “They’re back!” Cole whispered before disappearing. A bright shadow floated through the large window in the living room and then bolted upstairs. 

“That’s a reaper!” Dean yelled rushing towards the stairs, “Hey! Stop we need to talk to you!” A young woman with shoulder length mahogany colored hair, lite brown eyes and soft features walked slowly down the stairs a moment later. “Wait, I know you…”

“Think hard sparky, it’ll come to you.” She smiled sarcastically and crossed her arms over her tight leather jacket.

“Tessa. She was my reaper at the hospital after the car accident with Dad.” Dean told his younger brother.

“Look, Tessa, you shouldn’t be here.” Sam told her.

“Actually Stretch, you two shouldn’t be here. This towns been turned upside down and I'm here to try and fix that.” The reaper told them.

“No you don’t understand, it isn’t safe for you here. The last Reaper got taken by demons and they might not stop at one.”

“Look, I know all about your Angel-Demon dance off and I don’t care. I’m here to do my job and help these spirits crossover.”

“Tessa, listen to me. We need that kid. He can tell us where the demons took the other Reaper. We are here to save them and stop the demons from tearing this town apart,” Dean pleaded. 

Tessa rolled her eyes impatiently, “Fine. But once you fix this I’m reaping and I’m starting with that kid. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” the brothers echoed. Sam volunteered to try and convince Cole to help them locate the missing Reaper and left Dean and Tessa in the living room. They watched silently for a few moments as Cole’s mother cried silently into her empty glass of wine. 

“Life’s funny sometimes don’t you think Dean,” Tessa said watching as Mrs. Griffith grabbed her purse and left through the front door.

“What do you mean?”

“Me and you meeting up again. You’re the one that got away Dean. That doesn’t happen to often to me.”

“You comin’ on to me Tessa?” Dean asked raising his eyebrows sarcastically. “Can I tell you something? If you promise to keep it between you and me.”

“Pinky promise Dean.”

“A lot happened to me after our little experience. My dad giving his soul up to save me, me selling my soul to save Sam,” Dean paused. “The pain of losing them, I just- I couldn’t handle it. You wanna talk about life being funny; for a long time a big part of me regretted not going with you. I thought being done with all this would’ve been easier.”

“What changed?” Tessa asked.

“I met someone. She was my missing piece. We had less than a year together and we lived a lifetime; at the end I just wanted more time,” Dean took a deep breath. “Things are different now.”

“Why? Because now you have Angels on your shoulder?” 

“You know about that?”

“We all know about that Dean.”

“Well then you know where I went when I died,” he continued. “I did horrible things…and still someone upstairs decided to give me a second chance…I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore.”

The conversation ended when Sam and Cole returned. “Cole can show us where they took the reapers.” The lights flickered again and a swirling wave of black smoke forced its way into the home and surrounded Tessa. She screamed and then she and the smoke were gone.

“Cole, tell us where the smoke went! We are running out of time.” Dean turned to the young boy.

“The-The Weatherly Family Mortuary,” he said in a tremulous voice, “I’m going back to my closet.” With that he disappeared again.

“I know where that place is, we drove past it on the way into town.” Sam called to his older brother as he ran through the wall. “You know we really need to learn how to do that ghost teleporting thing.”

With a few moments of trial and error the brothers were able to teleport to the mortuary. They blinked out on the front steps of Coles home and a second later reappeared on the front steps of the mortuary. “That’s more like it,” Dean said triumphantly. The brothers stared up at the two story brick building and saw that is was covered in strange, glowing script. 

They hurried into the main parlor of the mortuary and found Tessa and the other Reaper laying unconscious within a binding sigil. “Now, how do we get them out?”

Before Sam could respond two demons ran out from behind the viewing curtains, their faces contorted in pain and their hands smoking from carrying a heavy metal chain. They crisscrossed the chain around the room and sneered at the Winchesters. Dean reached out and tried to grab the chain, searing pain shot up through his arm , “It’s iron.”

Wheezy laughing echoed from the far hall and another demon strode in. He was tall and pale and carried a shotgun carelessly at his side.“Hello, boys. Glad you found the place,” the demon said letting out another wheezy laugh as he walked up to the iron chain trapping Sam and Dean.

“Alastair.” Dean spat.

Alastair nodded his head and sneered. He grasped the shotgun in both hands and looked at it adoringly. He aimed the gun at Dean and fired. Dean disappeared with a painful grunt in a cloud of smoke. “Rock salt. Not so fun anymore is it?” Dean reappeared a moment later frantically checking his midsection. Alastair pumped the shotgun again, “Well come on Sam. Try out your mojo on me now.” Sam glared at the demon and clenched his fists. “Not so easy without your meat suit, is it?” 

“Go to hell, Alastair.” Dean grumbled.

“Oh, Dean, I wish I could. But they keep sending me back to this arctic shithole.”

“Why? So you can kill Death?” Sam countered.

“No, fool. So I can kill death twice. It takes two to break a seal and I knew eventually another Reaper would show up and join the party.” Without warning Alastair fired the shotgun into Sam causing him to disappear. “Dean, Dean, Dean. How I’ve missed you, my favorite toy, my prime student. Things have been so bland without your company.”

Dean sneered disgustedly, “Look, you white eyed prick, you can shoot us all you want but you can’t kill us.” Sam reappeared next to his brother moaning in pain and grasping his chest.

“No? Oh thats right, you’ve got that cute, red headed cunt and that psychic bitch guarding your bodies don’t you? I promised my boys a turn with each of them before we cut their hearts out. Bring ‘em back here and make them watch.” Alastair smiled over his shoulder at his two demon henchmen, they let their black eyes flash at the hunters and then they disappeared.

“You’d love my friend. He could take us to any show, anywhere. Best seats in the house. Free drinks all night, no hang over if we ask nicely,” River sat at the foot of Deans bed, watching their sleeping forms. Pamela opened her mouth to reply when a board creaked in the hallway outside their room. River bolted up and moved towards the locked door, checking the peephole. “Pam you sense anything?” The psychic shook her head. Thunder erupted outside, loud enough to shake the windows of the motel. River moved back to the window, watching as the sky exploded in a violent storm. “I’m gonna guess that’s not a good sign,” she muttered.

“Someone’s here,” Pam whispered slowly circling the room. River bent down and pulled the demon knife out of her boot. The door to their room exploded inwards, showering them with broken wood as three demons rushed in.

“Pam! Wake them up!” River screamed charging at the demons. She shot the first demon in the knee, driving him to the floor and arcing the blade down to stab him in the neck. The demon grabbed weakly at the bleeding hole when River pulled the blade out before savagely plunging it into his carotid. The demon died with a gurgled scream and a flash of sickly orange light. A second demon ran at River and tackled her to the floor before she had time to counter. The demon punched her in the face causing her to see bright spots in her peripheral vision. River could hear Pam start yelling the incantation to wake up the brothers before she was interrupted, screaming, “No, you bastard.” She tried to swing the knife up at the demon pinning her the ground but he grabbed her wrist and started forcing the blade back down towards her heart. 

Back at the mortuary, Alastair had succeeded in murdering the first reaper and had moved on to Tessa. Dean and Sam were still trapped behind the iron chains but had turned their attention away from the demon and the reaper. Hanging above the reaper trap was an ornate chandelier, hanging from a flimsy metal chain. The brothers focused their spirit energy on the chain and it snapped, sending the chandelier crashing into the floor and breaking the sigil. In an instant Tessa was free from Alastair’s grasp and was tearing down the iron chain that trapped Dean and Sam. In a blink the three disappeared. Tessa and Dean reappeared on the street outside their motel. “Where’s your brother?” she asked

“I don’t know. I’ll find him.” 

River bucked her hips uselessly at the huge weight of the man on top of her. She screamed in frustration as the blade was forced closer to her chest. She heard Pam scream again and heard a loud crash from behind her but couldn’t spare a glance to check her friend. She pushed hard with the hand that was grasping the blade and moved it a few precious inches away from her heart. With her free hand she shoved her thumb in the demons eye. He growled and pushed the blade down, it sunk into the soft flesh between Rivers neck and shoulder. She screamed in pain, let go of the hilt of the knife and shoved her other thumb into the demons remaining eye. He flailed at her hands and she used the change in his position to push him off of her. River stared at the blade sticking out of her shoulder for a second before yanking it free. She turned the knife on the now blind demon and plunged it into his heart. She swayed on her feet then collapsed next to the dead demons.

Sam shot awake on the bed, staring dazed at the scene rapidly unfolding before him. River lay on the ground unmoving two dead demons sprawled out in front of her. Pam was struggling with a third demon, before he could intervene the demon pulled a wickedly sharp knife out and stabbed the psychic in the stomach. “NO!” he screamed. Sam threw his hand out and sent the demon flying across the room, pinning him to a wall. Pam sunk to the floor grasping at the hole in her abdomen. Sam stood in front of the struggling demon and clenched his fist. Black smoke shot out of the eyes and mouth of the man, sinking to the ground as Sam destroyed it. He turned away from the remains of the demon. Pam’s blind eyes were covered by her shiny sunglasses but her mouth open in surprise. River was groaning on the floor and pushing herself up to a sitting position.

“Pam! Come on,” Sam said helping the woman to her feet and laying her gently on the bed. He walked back to River, she held her hand to a bleeding wound on her shoulder. Pam started laughing as they returned to her side.

“What the hell is so funny you crazy bitch?” River demanded. Pam lifted her torn shirt and showed them the gash in her abdomen, it was wider and deeper than Rivers yet wasn’t bleeding a drop.

“I can’t die in this town, remember?” Pam said.

“Pam you need a doctor. You both do,” Sam said looking between the women.

“Relax grumpy and make us a drink,” Pam said laughing again.

“Wait…why isn’t Dean awake?” River pointed at the still sleeping form of Dean.

Dean was still wondering around the veil, running up and down streets and alleys yelling for his younger brother. He came to another empty street and stopped, growling in frustration.

“Where do you think your going Dean?” Alastair appeared behind him, “ You can’t run. Not from me. Inside that self-loathing, angsty little head of yours-“ The demons rant was interrupted by a brilliant bolt of lighting that erupted around him and in a flash he was gone.

“What the hell?” Dean muttered. 

“Guess again,” a gravely voice answered. Dean turned around and came face to face with Castiel. “Hello, Dean.”

“What just happened?”

“You and Sam saved a seal. We captured Alastair; Dean this was a victory.” The angel replied. 

“Yeah, no thanks to you.” Dean countered.

“No? Who do you think recruited you?” 

“Wait, that wasn’t Bobby that called me?”

“No , it was me. We needed you and Sam to get into the mortuary. We couldn’t get in. And we would’ve…preferred for you to be here much sooner but you were taken by those witches. In the end that was also fortuitous.”

“What do you mean? You sent River after those witches?”

“Yes, we needed to get the gauntlet away from them before their master realized they had it.”

“She could’ve died. Me and my brother could’ve died.” Dean yelled angrily.

“You were never in real danger Dean. River on the other hand is reckless.”

“She was desperate you asshole. You sent her to face a coven alone. You lied to her. You lied to us. You could’ve just asked us for help.”

“Every time I ask you for help, you seem to do the exact opposite. I did what I had to do to get your cooperation.”

Dean ran his hand along his jaw, frustrated by the matter of factness Castiel answered, “So, what now? People are just gonna start dying again?”

“Yes.”

“These are good people, Cas. People with families, with lives you can’t just rip them away.”

“To everything there is a season, Dean.”

“Don’t give me any of that Confucius bullshit. You can make an exception. You made one for me.”

“You are different.” The angel disappeared in a flutter of wings and left Dean alone in the deserted road. 

Sam knelt in front of River applying a pressure dressing to the stab wound in her shoulder, “Why the hell are you bleeding and Pam isn’t?”

River licked her split lip and looked at the hole in Pam’s shirt, “Because my wound isn’t mortal and hers is. You ok, Sam?” He glanced up from patch job but remained silent.

Dean stalked back down the deserted street towards the motel but was once again stopped on his journey by the reappearance of the reaper, Tessa. “Hey, Dean. I could use your help.” They transported themselves once again to Cole Griffiths house and were able to convince the young spirit to cross over. Dean and the reaper remained in the home and watched Cole’s grieving mother flip through her son’s baby book. “Can I give you some advice, Dean?” Tessa asked quietly after a moment. Dean nodded.

“I’ve been around Death for a long time and I’ve noticed something about you humans,” she pointed towards the woman crying alone, “You’re afraid, you all are of what comes next. But you also lie. Lie to yourself, lie to each other. ‘He’s in a better place.’ ‘At least they’re together.’ Lies. Stop lying to yourself Dean.”

“What?” he asked surprised.

“The Angels, you really think they have something good planned for you? Trust your instincts Dean. There’s no such things as miracles,” with her final grim warning she disappeared. 

“Pam, we planning on bringing Dean back to the land of the living anytime tonight?” River asked once Sam finished with her bandages. Pam flipped her off and then leaned over Dean, reciting the incantation to rejoin his spirit with his body. She groaned lowly and stumbled backwards. “Pam?” River rushed to her friends side. The wound in Pamelas stomach had started bleeding profusely and she pressed her hands in to try and staunch the bleeding. “No no no no. Sam, get more bandages!” 

“We, we just have to tell Tessa to lay off the reaping. We’ll get you to a hospital.” Sam yelled bringing more first aid supplies. Dean woke up on the bed next to them gasping for breath.

“What the hell happened?” he asked. Watching as River tried desperately to slow the blood pouring from the psychic.

“Dean! Where’s Tessa?” Sam asked.

“She’s-“ 

“Hey, Pam. You’re not gonna die in this fucking motel room…No. I’m gonna call Loki and he’s- he’s gonna take us to any god damn show you want. You just have to hang on.” River told her.

Pam sat back and pushed River’s bloody hands away from her stomach, “No. Stop.” She took her sunglasses off and tossed them onto the bed, her white plastic caps staring blindly at the three hunters. 

“Pam, I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this.” Sam told her quietly.

“No. I don’t. I’m so fucking angry at you three. I told you I didn’t want anything to do with this.” She took a long drink from her flask and tossed it onto the bed next to her sunglasses. River sat back, tears falling silently from her eyes and stared at the blood covering her arms. Dean pulled her gently to her feet and led her towards the bathroom. “Tell Bobby Singer to go to hell for ever introducing me to you three.” Pam started coughing, flecks of blood splattering her lips. “Come here, grumpy.” She pulled Sam to her and whispered in his ear, “I know what you did to that demon. If you think you’re doing that with good intentions. Think again.” She let out another bloody cough and fell back into the headboard. 

“Pam! Pamela!” River yelled trying to push past Dean, who was washing the blood off her arms. Dean pulled her into a tight hug, “Hey, shhh. She’s gone. You know she’s gone.” He murmured into her hair. She struggled for a moment before letting out a deep sob and clutching at his shirt. 

They drove silently through the night. Pam’s body carefully wrapped in sheets and laying in the backseat. River sat between the Winchester brothers and stared out the front window . Sam slept quietly leaning his head against the car door. “I want to kill all of them. Alastair, Lilith, every fucking one of them,” River said suddenly. Dean was startled by her voice in the silent car and looked down at her. He reached his hand towards hers in the darkness and she took it briefly, giving him a tight squeeze before letting go.


	20. chapter 20

Ch 20

Pamelas funeral was held in a beautiful meadow near Bobby’s house. The sky was a brilliant sapphire blue, the wildflowers were in full bloom and the singing of birds and buzzing of bees almost drown out the soft sounds of crying from the gathered mourners. The psychic was given a hunters funeral, she had earned it long before she died helping the Winchesters. Dean, Sam and River stood in the shadow of a large pine tree all three avoiding the other mourners. Bobby led the memorial with a quick memory of Pamela, followed by several others. They left as soon as the funeral pyre was lit.

River climbed into the backseat of the Impala and let out a deep sigh, rubbing the wound in her shoulder. “Leave that alone so it’ll heal.” Dean harped at her from the front seat. She rolled her eyes and leaned back against the soft leather seat. River and Dean still weren’t on friendly terms but over the last few days she had started talking to him for more than one to two sentences at a time.

“Ruby called me this morning. She’s been following some leads on Lilith. She wants to us to meet her in Cheyenne,” Sam said as the smoke from Pamela’s funeral faded in the rearview mirror. “I know she’s not on your guys Christmas card list, but she’s trying to help.”

Dean caught River’s eyes in the rearview mirror and she quickly looked away, her eyebrows furrowed. “Work with Ruby or don’t. I, for one, don’t give a rat’s ass,” Dean grumbled.

“What’s your problem, dude?” Sam asked. 

“Pamela. She’s dead because of us.”

“She knew what was at stake.”

“Stopping the apocalypse. Right? I told her that….” River said quietly staring at the dark grey sky as fat storm clouds rolled in.

Dean let out a deep breath, “I’m just tired man. I’m tired of burying friends.”

“Don’t get tire, get angry. If we can catch a fresh trail-“

“Then we follow it,” Dean said.

“We kill that white eyed bitch.” River added.

They agreed to meet Ruby in Cheyenne and stopped at a motel after midnight. “I’ll get the rooms.” River told them climbing out of the car. She walked to the small office and rang the bell. She was about to ring it again when a short, greasy man appeared from behind a beaded curtain. He wore a stained undershirt that at one time had probably been considered white. 

“Can I help you?”

“I need two rooms please,” River said tiredly. She rolled her stiff shoulders, the hours cooped up in the car causing her healing shoulder to throb. The man nodded, staring openly at her bruised face as he slid a clipboard with papers to her. She had tried to lessen the ugly black and blue marks on her cheek with makeup but they stood in stark contrast to the paleness of the rest of her features. He glanced over her shoulder as Dean and Sam crowded into the office behind her. “I said I got it,” she said without looking up from the registration paperwork. The man made a cursory glance at the papers and pocketed the cash River threw on the counter. 

“My lady likes it rough too,” he said winking at Dean and handing River the room keys. 

“What’d you say?” Dean started. 

River grabbed his jacket and pulled them out of the office, “Not worth it. Let’s just get some sleep. She checked the number on her room key and stopped at the correct door. “Smells like feet…” River mumbled unhappily as she stepped into the dingy room. Dean and Sam followed her inside and did a quick safety check. They had decided no one settles down in their room without a full inspection; checking for hex bags, signs of demons, or any other potentially hazardous materials. Deeming the room safe they moved onto the brothers. 

“Home crappy home,” Dean called as they walked in and turned on the lights.

“Winchester and Winchester and their whore,” Uriel stood in front of them. Hands in his pockets and looking like a parent ready to scold a child for staying out past curfew. Castiel stood in the shadows, leaning quietly against a wall.

“Come on, man.” Dean said.

“You are needed,” Uriel continued.

“Fuck off,” River said exhausted.

“Watch your tone with me, mud monkey.”

“You watch your tone with us! We just got back from Pamela’s funeral,” Dean said stepping towards the angel, “You know, the psychic. You remember her? Hey, Cas, you remember her? You burned her eyes out, blinded her.” He took another deep breath. “How about you quit pushing us around like chess pieces for five freaking minutes?”

“We raised you outta hell for our purposes, don’t forget that. You owe us your gratitude, your life,” Uriel said threateningly.

Castiel took a small step from the wall and looked at the hunters, “Dean, we know this is difficult for you to understand.”

“And we…don’t care,” Uriel said cutting the other Angel off with a glare. Castiel stiffened up and retreated to the wall. River and Dean watched as Castiel stood at attention allowing Uriel to remain in charge. River could see the faint outline of Castiel’s dark black wings folded up defensively around his shoulders. “Seven angels have been murdered over the last three days. All from our garrison. The last one was killed last night.”

“Demons?” Sam asked. Uriel gave a quick nod of the head.

“How are they doing it?” River asked.

Uriel looked at her, “We don’t know.”

“Then what do you want us to do about it?” Sam continued. “Demons with enough mojo to kill an angel is way out of our league.”

“We can handle the demons. Thank you very much,” Uriel told them.

“Once we know who it is,” Castiel interjected. Uriel shot him another look and he went rigid again.

“So you need our help hunting a demon?” Dean asked.

“Not quite. We have Alastair,” Castiel said stepping forward.

Dean smiled, “Well, great. He can name your triggerman.”

“He’s not talking…That’s why we need you.” Castiel said staring at Dean.

“What? Why would you need Dean?” River asked.

“We’ve arrived at an impasse with Alastair, his will is strong.”

“Yeah, well thats because he’s a black belt in torture. What ever you’ve been doing to him is like a spa day in Hell.” Dean said.

“Yes, we know that. That’s why we’ve come for you. His student. You’re the most qualified interrogator we have at our disposal.” Uriel said sneering at him.

“Dean?” River asked quietly. Dean looked at her silently, she tilted her head slightly and stared at him asking for an explanation.

“She still doesn’t know does she?” Uriel suggested.

“You are our best hope, Dean. Our brothers and sisters are being murdered.”

“No.” Dean answered. “You can’t ask me to do this, Cas. Not this.”

Uriel strode towards the hunter. “Who said anything about asking?” he said dangerously. In the next instant, the angels unfurled their invisible wings and with a flutter they and Dean were gone.

“No! Shit!” River yelled when he disappeared. Sam cursed and kicked a chair.

Dean reappeared in a warehouse. Castiel led him to a metal door and they looked through a small, dirty window. Alastair was chained to a huge iron pentagram, the floor underneath him was painted in an intricate devils trap. “That devil’s trap is old Enochian. He is bound completely Dean.”

Dean took several shallow breaths, panic starting to fire up his spine, “Well, that’s swell. Where’s the door?”

“Where are you going?” Uriel asked.

“Hitching back to Cheyenne. Thank you very much.”

“No, I don’t think so. Angels are dying boy, you have a duty to us,” Uriel continued.

“I get it, you’re all powerful and now you’re dying. You can make me do whatever but you CAN NOT make me do this.”

“I know it is too much to ask. But we must ask it, Dean.” Castiel stared unblinking at the hunter.

Dean rubbed his eyes tiredly, “I want to talk to Cas. Alone.”

Uriel stared his fellow angel and at the back of Dean’s head, “I’ll go and seek…revelation. Perhaps we have further orders.” He disappeared leaving Castiel and Dean alone.

“Cas, what the hell man? What’s wrong with you? You’re letting Uriel muzzle you?” Dean said, looking back through the window at Alastair.

“My superiors feel it is for the best,” Castiel said slowly. “They feel I am beginning to show emotions which can lead to doubts in faith. I have become to close to the humans in my charge.”

“Is this what you want, Cas?” Dean asked.

“Want? No. But I have been told we need it.” 

Dean placed his hands on either side of the small window and leaned down, “You ask me to do this. To walk through this door…you are not gonna like what comes out on the other side.”

“For what’s its worth, I would give anything to not have you do this,” Cas told him quietly.

“Where the hell did they take him?” River yelled. “I need a map.” Someone knocked on the door and River quit yelling. “Who the hell is that Sam?”

Sam opened the door and Ruby was waiting on the other side. “Hi, Sam.” Ruby said smiling up at the tall man.

“You better be here to help us find Dean.” River told her.

Ruby’s face scrunched up, “Eh, I don’t really see what the problem is…”

“I am not in the mood for your demon bullshit, Ruby.” River told her quietly.

“River, she’s my friend and I invited her here.” Sam warned.

Ruby smiled at Sam then turned her black eyes towards River. “I can find him. It’s not like the Angels are worried about being found. Pompous dicks aren’t used to anyone challenging them.” Ruby pulled a large map out of her bag, unfolded it and laid it out on the table. She began reciting a spell and the map caught fire and began engulfing the paper. “Don’t worry, Red. The only important part is the ‘Where’s Dean’ part.” The fire extinguished leaving a small area untouched. “Dean’s there.” Ruby pointed looking up at Sam.

“Well, ok then. Lets go,” River turned towards the door. Sam stared at Ruby a moment longer. “Sam?”

“Go back to your room. I’ll come get you when I’m ready,” Sam told her.

“Fuck you. Get your shit and lets roll,” River countered staring at the much taller man. Sams jaw clenched and he glanced back at Ruby. The demon crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. “Sam, what the shit dude?”

Sam grabbed her around her upper arm and drug her towards the door, “I said get out.” He opened the door and pushed her out into the dark parking lot. She stumbled but quickly regained her balance and ran back towards the door as Sam slammed and locked it in her face.

“Sam! You fuck!” she kicked the door angrily and then screamed in frustration. She kicked the door again before storming back to her room. 

“Enough teasing Ruby. It’s been too long and you know I need it,” Sam said quietly. 

Ruby smiled again, dragging her tongue slowly over her bottom lip, “I know Sam. It’s ok. You can have it.” She grabbed Sam by the waist and made him sit on the bed before straddling him. They kissed harshly, their lips and tongues crashing together. Sam grabbed a fistful of Ruby’s dark brown hair and pulled her head sideways giving him access to her throat which he sucked and bit.

“I need it.” He groaned into her neck. 

Ruby smiled and pulled a small knife out of her boot. She slid the sharp edge across her forearm and her dark blood oozed slowly from the wound, “It’s all yours Sam.” He pressed his lips around the slit in her arm and sucked greedily at the blood, swallowing mouthful after mouthful.

River sat heavily in the musty armchair in her room and fumed. Rubbing absently at the bruises forming around her arm where Sam had grabbed her. “Son of a bitch, fucking Winchesters…” she grumbled angrily to herself. She heard the roar of the Impala’s engine from the parking lot and ran towards her door, she flung it open and saw the tail lights disappear as Sam drove away. “SAM!” she yelled. River turned back towards her room and saw Ruby standing in the darkness. The demon winked at her before disappearing. “Fuck my life,” she muttered before retreating to her room.

“You think your gonna walk in here with your toys and I’m gonna spill my guts Dean?” Alastair said laughing as Dean slowly walked towards him pushing a cart stacked with torture equipment.

Dean smiled, “One way or another you’re gonna spill your guts. I just don’t want to ruin my boots.” Deans ran his fingers lightly over the pliers, knives, and vials of holy water. “Just give me a name Alastair. Who is killing angels?”

Alastair sneered, “Oh, Come on Dean. I taught you better than this. You don’t want any payback for all those things I did to you in the pit?” Dean turned away from the demon. “No? How about all those things I did to your daddy? Now, John Winchester, that was one tough cookie. He wouldn’t crack no matter where I pulled, or poked, or cut.” Dean closed his eyes and smiled. “Oh, there he is… Hello, Dean welcome back.” 

Deans hand closed over a syringe and he held it up to inspect it. “You know I could still dream down there, in the pit. And every night I dreamed of this.” Dean put the tip of the syringe into a jug of holy water and drew back the plunger, then he attached a long, sharp needle to the end and turned towards Alastair. The demon smiled nervously as a flicker of fear passed over his angular features. “I dreamed up so many terrible things I wanted to do you,” Dean whispered quietly. His screams echoed through out the empty warehouse. Castiel turned away from the door and tried to ignore the sounds of anguish coming from the demon. Dean let his anger wash over him, drowning out everything else until he saw was Alastair. While Dean reveled in Alastair’s pain an unseen force was working its way into the torture room, slowly turning the knobs on the fire sprinklers.

The lightbulb above Cas’s head exploded and looked up, “Anna. You should not be here.”

The Angel appeared before him, smiling sadly. “Neither should you, Castiel. Neither should Dean Winchester.”

“I have a duty. I have orders.”

“Whose orders, Castiel?”

“Our fathers.”

“Are you sure? Do you really think our Father would want something like this?” Another scream echoed from the chamber. “Is this righteous, Castiel?” Castiel remained silent, fighting with his inner thoughts. He wanted desperately to run to Dean and make him stop, take him away from this place of death and pain. “That feeling, Castiel, that’s doubt. I felt it too. We’ve always been so alike, you and I.”

Castiel turned towards her seething, “Alike? I am nothing like you! You fell! You betrayed our father. Now leave!” Anna spared one last look towards the metal door behind which Dean continued torturing Alastair in the name of their father and disappeared. 

“Bobby, I don’t know where they are!” River yelled into her cellphone. “Castiel and that fuck Uriel kidnapped Dean. And then Ruby showed up and did some freaking spell to track him. And then Sam kicked me out of his room and almost ripped my fucking arm off in the process!” She paced around her small room, running her free hand through her hair.

“Sam tossed you outta his room?” Bobby asked unbelieving.

“Yes, Bobby he threw me out and slammed the fucking door in my face… And then He fucking left me here in the middle of no where Cheyenne…I guess he’s going after Dean.”

“River, sweet heart, calm down. I’ll be there in a few hours and we’ll find both of them.”

“You calm down! Papa Bear, I am fucking calm!” she yelled again disconnecting the call and slamming her phone on the table.

 

“Now Dean, that kind of smarted.” Alastair coughed up a thick glob of blood and spat it on the ground near his feet. “ Where were we? Oh, yes, your daddy…my-my-my I had a century with him. I made the same deal every night with him that I did with you; I’d put down my knife if he’d take it up…for a hundred years he said no. Hmmm made of some tough stuff that John Winchester. How disappointed do you think he’d be knowing what a pussy you are? You barely made it thirty before breaking.” Dean grabbed the demon knife of the table and stabbed Alastair in the stomach, the demon groaned and spit up more blood.

“You want to give me a name yet?” Dean whispered, twisting the knife ever so slightly. 

“Have I told you ‘thank you’ yet?” Alastair asked through blood stained teeth as Dean set the knife down and wiped his hands on a filthy towel.

Dean picked up his bottle of whiskey and took a long swallow, “For what Alastair?”

“Everything you’ve done for us. None of this would have been possible without you, Dean. It was supposed to be your father he was supposed to bring it on. But like I said, he was made of tougher stuff.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you remember that night, Dean? The night you said yes to my offer. The first time you picked up my razor.” Deans hands shook and he closed his eyes, the memory as fresh now as it was in hell all those years ago. Alastair bringing him the bodies of his dead sons, the sounds of Rivers screams echoing in the chamber; he couldn’t bear it and begged Alastair to let him accept the offer. “Do you remember her? That weeping bitch you sliced into, I picked her just for you…red hair, blue eyes, freckles. Thought she’d remind you of that little bitch you left topside. The way you made her scream; that was ecstasy. That was the first seal and you broke it.”

Dean stepped back towards Alastair and held the demon knife to his throat, “You’re lying.”

Alastair smiled, “ ‘And it written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell. As he breaks so shall it break.’ Had to break the first seal first. Only way to get to Yahtzee.” Dean staggered away from the demon, taking deep breaths. “When it all burns, when we destroy this world, we will owe everything to you. Believe me,” Alastair paused looking up at the rusted pipes above his head, the bolt around the sprinkler loosened a few millimeters by the same unseen force and fat drops of water started splashing to the floor washing away the salt lines of the binding sigil, “I wouldn’t lie about this Dean.”

Dean shook his head, “I don’t think you’re lying…it doesn’t matter. Even if the demons win, you won’t be there to see it.” He turned back towards the demon and gasped in surprise. Alastair was free of his binds and smiling.

“You should really get someone to check the pipes,” he said. Alastair grabbed Dean by the shirt and slammed his fist into the hunters face. Dean staggered back but Alastair was faster, he grabbed Dean again and slammed his bare knuckles over and over into his face. Dean quickly became dazed, grasping weakly at Alastair’s shirt as the demon abused him. His eyes were already nearly swollen shut, his nose broken, his lips cut and bleeding down his chin. Alastair gave Dean a hard kick in the gut causing him to slide along the ground and slam into the iron pentagram that he had been strapped to. “Dean, you disappoint me.” He bent down and grabbed Dean around the throat, lifting him off the ground, “You still have so much to learn.” He tightened his fingers around Deans throat causing him to take short grunting breaths, “I’m signing you up for remediation and I expect to see you in class first thing Monday morning!”

Castiel rushed in without a moment to spare and stabbed Alastair with the demon knife causing him to lose his grip on the hunter. Alastair turned to face the Angel and sneered looking down at the knife sticking out of his shoulder, “Looks like god is on my side today.” Castiel reached out with his grace and twisted the knife in Alastair’s shoulder causing the demon to double over in pain. The pain didn’t last though as Alastair ripped the knife out and dropped it to the floor. He used his demon power to send Castiel flying across the room, impaling him on a broken piece of pipe. The angel struggled to pull himself off the jagged piece of metal. Alastair slowly walked towards him, clucking his tongue. “You celestials, you’re like cockroaches…I wish I knew how to get rid of you. But alas, all I can do is send you back to heaven.” He began reciting a demonic spell causing Castiel’s grace to flare as it was loosing it’s grip on his vessel. “Omnipotentis Dei Potesvo-“ Alastair gagged suddenly, choking as though an invisible vice had encircled his throat. In the next instant he was sent flying across the room and pinned to a brick wall.

“Hey Papa Bear,” River jumped into Bobby’s car as soon as she heard its rattling muffler pull into the motels parking lot. “Head North on I-17. We’re looking for some warehouse about 60 miles from here.” Bobby spun the car around without another word and they raced away.

Alastair fought against the invisible force holding him against the wall. Sam Winchester walked quietly out of the shadows and stood in front of the demon. “Welcome to the party, little brother.”

Sam sent another waive of psychic energy at the demon causing him to grunt in pain, “Who’s killing the angels?”

“I’m not telling you anything.” Alastair murmured defiantely. Castiel unsteadily pulled himself to his feet, glancing between Sam and Dean, who lay unconscious where Alastair had dropped him.

“How are they doing it?” Sam tightening his fist and Alastair screamed in pain, gagging as his demon essence desperately tried to escape his vessel. “HOW?”

“I…don’t…know!” Alastair yelled.

“Tell me!” Sam increased the force he had around Alastair. “How are the demons killing angels?”

“It’s…ughh…it’s not us!” Alastair pleaded. “We…aren’t…doing…it!” He gagged again, shuddering in pain.

“I don’t believe you,” Sam said quietly. Castiel however stared at the demon, the implications of his words to much to comprehend. The tendrils of doubt that been swirling in his mind where now taking hold.

“It’s not us!” Alastair screamed again, “This…this is not Lilith’s doing…So go ahead, Sam. Send me back.”

Sam scoffed, “Oh, I am so much stronger than that now.” Sam raised his hand to the demon, “Now I can kill.” Alastair started convulsing against the wall, gurgling and thrashing, bright flashes of grey light exploded through his body as the demon was killed. With one final scream, Sam destroyed Alastair. His broken, human vessel fell to the floor dead.

Bobby pushed his rusted old car to nearly 80 miles per hour causing the entire frame to shake and rattle down the interstate. Rivers phone vibrated in her pocket and she pulled it cursing as her fingers shook, “Sam! You asshole! Where are you?” River stopped talking as Sam told her where to meet him. She set her phone down in her lap.

“Well, what’s goin’ on?” Bobby asked from the drivers seat.

“We need to go to Balsam General Hospital. Dean’s in surgery. Sam said it’s pretty bad.”


	21. Chapter 21

Ch 21

authors warning: poorly written smut ahead

River ran through the hospitals lobby and was directed to the ICU. Dean had made it out of surgery and was still being stabilized. She hurried down the hallway and nearly ran into the trench coated Angel, Castiel. “You! You son of a bitch!” she stormed towards him, “You did this to him. Why aren’t you in there with him! Heal him!” She pushed the angel, well tried to push him but he stood rooted to the floor and she staggered backwards. She would have fell on her ass if Castiel hadn’t shot his hand out and caught her.

“River, I never wanted this to happen. You must believe me, if I could change any of this…” River pulled herself free of his grip and walked into the ICU. Dean was unconscious and almost unrecognizable, his face swollen and bruised, a breathing tube still in his throat and attached to a machine. Monitors and equipment beeped with his heart rate, his respirations and oxygen saturation. She walked the room reading the settings on the machines and medications.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” a nurse asked entering the room.

River turned to face her, “This medication is the wrong dose.”

“Excuse me?” 

“Neo-synephrine, right here.” She jabbed her finger at the little plastic bag of medicine. “ This is quadruple strength and this pump is set for double strength, you’re giving him the wrong dose!” she yelled.

The nurse bristled, adjusting the stethoscope around her neck and her name badge, “Ma’am, how are you related?”

“I’m his friend. Now,” River glanced at her name tag, “Jackie, really? Alright, Nurse Jackie, fix this fucking med or I will.”

“Only family is allowed in the ICU when the patients are this critical. If you don’t leave I’ll have to call security.”

“You really don’t want to do that.” River said quietly. The nurse turned back to her desk and picked up the phone.

“Wait!” Sam ran up to the nurse, “Look, that’s my brother. Please let her stay, she’s his family.” 

Jackie huffed and set the phone back down, “I’ll have to check with the doctor.” She turned to walk away and River yelled after her, “Come fix this damn med first!” The nurse stormed back into the room and checked the medications dripping into Dean. River stood over her shoulder and watched as she reprogrammed the pump.

“Are you a nurse?” 

“I used to be,” River answered quietly. She let Jackie leave in peace and pulled a chair up to Dean’s bed. “What the fuck happened Sam?”

“Alastair. He must’ve got free somehow and he…he did this. He’s dead River. I was able to…I killed him with the knife,” Sam lied. “The Doc said Dean had a laceration on his spleen, a concussion with a hairline skull fracture, broken ribs, broken nose. He’ll pull through, River, he’s strong.”

“You kicked me out over that demon…you left me behind… Can I just have some time alone with him?” Sam nodded and left the room. River took Dean’s cool fingers in her hand and rested her head next to his shoulder. “You stupid fucking asshole. I don’t want to lose you so you need to wake up.”

Castiel was waiting in the hallway and indicated to Sam to follow him to a private area. “Get in there and heal my brother!” Sam demanded.

“I can’t,” Castiel said quietly.

“Bullshit. He’s hurt, maybe dying because you can’t keep a devils trap in place!”

“I don’t know what happened to that devil’s trap, Sam. It should have held.”

“This was pointless, this whole thing was pointless,” Sam stammered, “The demons aren’t behind this. They aren’t the ones killing angels.” He turned away from the Angel and walked towards the waiting room to sit with Bobby. Castiel disappeared in a flutter of wings. 

Several hours later visiting hours were up and it took two security guards, Sam and Bobby to persuade River to leave Dean’s side. “We’ll be back at 7:00 am on the fucking dot!” River yelled as the ICU doors swung shut. They spent the night sleeping on the uncomfortable plastic chairs in the waiting room.

Dean made an incredible turn for the better a little after midnight: he was breathing on his own and deemed strong enough to come off the ventilator and most of the medications to stabilize his heart and vital signs. His surgeon came to the waiting room and told Sam, River, and Bobby ‘It was near miraculous’. The hunters exchanged a look and smiled. 

“Are you ok?” a deep, gravelly voice woke Dean from restless sleep.

He opened his gritty eyes and turned his sore neck to face Castiel. The angel sat quietly in the chair next to his bed and stared at Dean with his unreadable ice blue eyes. “No thanks to you. You need to learn how to manage a damn devils trap.”

“And You need to be more careful,” Castiel warned. Dean laughed and winced as pain shot through his midsection. “No. Listen to me. I went back to the warehouse, to check the devils trap. I drew it myself and there is no way a demon could have gotten past it.”

“And?”

“Uriel betrayed us. He sabotaged the devils trap ,he wanted Uriel to kill you…. He’s dead. Anna killed him to save me,” Castiel sat forward in his chair, “There are angels working to help bring about the apocalypse, followers of Uriel that want to raise Lucifer.”

Dean swallowed painfully, “Is it true? Did I break the first seal?”

“Yes. When we leaned what Lilith had planned for you, we laid siege to hell trying to get to you before-“ Castiel answered.

“Before I jump started the apocalypse.”

“We were too late. And I am sorry for that.”

“If…if River had taken Lilith’s deal,” Dean started, “Could we have prevented this.”

“It is written that ‘The righteous man will be sent to hell in the name of purest love’.” Castiel stared at Dean.

“Why didn’t you just leave me there, then?” Dean said as shame filled tears fell from his eyes.

“It is not blame that falls on you, Dean. It’s fate,” Castiel told him. “ ‘The righteous man who begins it is the only one that can finish it'. You must stop it.”

 

“Stop what? Lucifer? The apocalypse? What the hell does that even mean?”

“I don’t know Dean. They don’t tell me much,” Castiel looked past Dean into the hallway outside his room. 

“I can’t do it, Cas. I’m not strong enough.”

“I believe visiting hours have started again.” Castiel disappeared as River, Sam and Bobby rounded the corner.

“We were told 7:00 am, it’s 7:01 sweet cheeks.” River told the harried looking nurse following on her heels, “Hey, hot stuff. You look like shit.” Dean quickly wiped his eyes. “Nurse ‘Rules and Regulations’ how ‘bout you get him some pain medicine?” River yelled over her shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you be nice to them? You used to be one,” Dean mumbled. 

River smiled and shrugged her shoulders, “What’s this, jello?” She picked up a small plastic container of orange goop. “You need to be spoon fed?” Sam and Bobby smiled at them and Dean shook his head.

They waited several more hours in the cramped hospital room before Dean was finally cleared for discharge. Dean gave them a condensed version of his discussion with Castiel. River smiled gleefully when she heard the Uriel was dead. “Wow, Tylenol with codeine. Very magnanimous of you Doctor,” River snarked taking the prescription for pain medicine from Dean’s doctor. Dean sat waiting in a wheelchair smiling as River gave every single person a hard time about everything, she complained about Dean’s wounds and they were given another bag of dressing supplies, he watched as she snuck into a supply room and came out with a bag of more first aid supplies, IV fluids and socks with little rubber grips on the bottom “We were totally out of first aid stuff after that last soiree.” She murmured to Sam shoving the bag into his big arms.

“I’m fine, I can drive,” Dean argued as Sam pulled Baby up to the curb.

“Get in the fucking car, Winchester.” River said helping Dean slide into the passenger seat.

Sam pulled off the highway after dusk, “Guys, I’m sorry but I gotta stop. Maybe just for a few hours so I can rest.” He found a motel and pulled into the parking lot. “I’ll go get the rooms,” Sam said climbing out of the car.

River and Dean sat silently in the car for several minutes. “I think…I think we should talk, Dean.” She said to the back of his head. He nodded in response as Sam returned with the room keys and they grabbed their bags. Dean followed River to her door and shifted nervously as she unlocked it. Sam stared at them, mouth open in surprise. “Call us in the morning, Sammy.” River yelled before closing the door. They put their bags on the small table in the center of the room and shrugged out of their jackets, tossing them on top. They avoided each others eyes and River let out a deep, nervous breath. “Dean-“ She turned towards him and noticed how close they were, barely a foot of space between them. He stepped forward and gently ran his fingertips from her jawline, up through her long hair and rested his hand on the back of her head. She didn’t push him away so he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to hers. Softly at first. Barely tracing his full, slightly chapped lips along her soft bottom lip. Her breaths came in short, shallow gasps as he took her lips fully in his. She moaned into his mouth, pulling at his shirt to get him closer. His kiss became hungrier, dragging his tongue into her mouth, his free hand squeezing her hip. Then he stopped…it took River a moment to realize he had stopped moving and her cheeks suddenly felt warm and wet. She opened her eyes and looked up at Dean. He was crying silently, his green eyes squeezed shut. “Dean?” she cupped his face in her hands. Another sob racked his shoulders and he collapsed to his knees, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her stomach. River ran her fingers through his short, chestnut hair. “Please talk to me.”

“I started this. I broke-I broke the first seal,” he took a shaky breath. “Alastair, he tortured me in Hell. Every night he would offer a deal, if I wanted off the rack I had to put souls back on it and hurt them like he hurt me.” River kept her fingers in his hair, ran them soothingly down his neck. “I tortured so many souls…I did terrible things to them…I’m a monster.”

“The first was a woman, I hear her screams in my head every night.” He looked up at River, “When I drew her blood I broke the seal and started the apocalypse.” River let out a deep breath and closed her eyes as her own tears started to fall. “I…god…I hate myself so fucking much. I can’t- …I don’t deserve to have someone like you in my life. I just wanted you to hate me, to get you away from me. To save you…” His shoulders shook as he choked on another sob. “I love you. I love you so much it hurts and I am so sorry…” he broke off, crying into her stomach. “I’m sorry for Anna. I’m sorry for the others…I can’t take that back. I swear to you it will never happen again. You’re the only one I want.” River leaned her head back against the wall and kept her fingers carding through his soft hair. Dean stopped crying several minutes later emotionally spent still grasping Rivers waist quietly.

She helped him stand, wiping the tears off his face. “Whatever you did in Hell it’s not your fault. We can deal with what you did here. I don’t hate you, Dean…” Dean stood still, face stoic but he closed his eyes when she spoke. River grasped his hands gently and kissed his finger tips. “Come on.” She led him into the small bathroom and ran a hot shower. He moved mechanically when River told him to get undressed and helped him climb in the shower. She climbed in naked next to him a moment later. Dean remained near catatonic while she gently washed away the grime and blood from the warehouse that still covered his body, closing his eyes when she told him to so she could wash his hair. She turned the water off once they were both washed and stepped out, wrapping a towel around her self before helping him get out. “Dean, put your boxers on.” She held out a pair to him and he stared at them confused for a moment before remembering how to get dressed. River quickly pulled her own underwear and a shirt on and pulled the blankets down on the bed. “Get in,” she instructed.

He lay down, watching as she walked back towards the door, “Where are you going?

“I’m just making sure we’re locked up.” River told him climbing in behind him a moment later and wrapping her arm around his waist. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it. “I’m here, Dean. I’m not leaving. Get some sleep.” She kissed his shoulder and spoke quietly in his ear. River allowed herself to fall asleep only after his breathing slowed and deepened.

Dean woke sometime the next morning from the annoying buzz of a cellphone. He blindly groped for it where it vibrated on the nightstand, “Yeah, Sammy, what?…Who cares if I answered River’s phone…Wait. River?” He sat up in the bed realizing River was no longer laying next to him. She opened the bathroom door a moment later, toothbrush hanging out of her mouth.

“Wha-?” she asked turning back to the sink to rinse her mouth out. Her hair was wavy and unbrushed hanging down her back, the shirt she wore to bed riding high on her hips as she leaned over the bathroom sink. Dean audibly groaned appreciating the way her black boy shorts stretched over the round curve of her ass. How the fuck did he get to share a bed with her? How the hell was he not gonna fuck this up again?

“You- uh you want breakfast?” he asked sitting back against the headboard. She shook her head, pulling her shirt off and tossing it onto the floor. Dean groaned again as she walked towards him, her full breasts swaying slightly with each step. “No we’re good…” Dean hung up the phone and tried setting it back on the nightstand but missed and it clattered to the floor.

“I was gonna say something sexy or seductive…but I couldn’t think of anything so,” she climbed onto the bed and straddled his waist. River bit her lower lip and smiled feeling his erection pressing through his boxers when she sat on his lap. “I want us to get back to being us. I want to hunt things with you, I want to save people and I want you to make love to me right now.”

“I can do that.” Dean told her, his eyes wide as she rubbed herself along his erection again and smiled. He brought his hands to the back of her head and tangled his fingers in her hair, bringing her lips to his. Their lips met, soft and warm and needy for each other. She pressed herself into his chest and moaned, Dean ran his tongue along her lower lip and slipped it in her mouth, tasting the mint from her toothpaste. His hands left her hair and went to her breasts, massaging them gently and flicking his rough thumbs over her nipples. He dipped his head down, kissing a trail from her neck to her breasts, his tongue swirling over her left nipple while he twerked the other gently between his fingers. River let her head drop back, her long hair brushing against Deans outstretched legs as he moved his mouth to her other nipple. She put her hand in his boxers and ran her fingers along his hard length. It was Dean’s turn to moan and his mouth fell away from her breast. She sat back hooking her thumbs under the thin fabric of his boxers and started to pull them down; Dean lifting his hips enough for her to get them far enough down so he could kick them off. His erection was free and standing up against his flat, tanned abdomen. Dean watched as River licked her lips then bent down and ran her tongue around the dark red head of his dick before dipping into the slit and lapping up the beads of precum. “Oh fuck, princess,” Dean hissed letting his eyes close and head relax back.

She ran her tongue down his shaft drawing a wet stripe before taking him into her mouth and slowly starting to suck. His hands tangled back in her hair and she moaned around his dick, her tongue felt warm and firm around his hard shaft and he fucked his hips into her mouth as she started sucking hard. She bobbed her head faster trying to take as much of as she could, having missed the feel and taste of him. Dean grunted, “Baby, you gotta stop. I wanna make this last.” River pulled her lips off him with a loud pop and moved back to his lap, her wet panties still separating them. Dean kissed her harshly again, sucking and biting her lower lip before flipping them over and pinning her underneath him. She bucked her hips into his, trying to get some friction on the building throb in her core. 

“God, Dean, I need you…” she moaned. He kissed a trail down her neck, down the middle of her chest, to the round edge of each of her hips. Her breathing was shallow, quick little pants as she watched Dean move lower. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he promised, before placing a soft kiss right above her clit. He moved lower and licked a flat strip from her lower lips to her clit, curling his tongue around the sensitive little bud. Rivers hands tangled in the sheets and her mouth hung open as she let out a low, “Oh.” “I almost forgot how sweet you taste,” he murmured, settling his shoulders underneath her bent legs and licking his tongue along her folds again. Her hips bucked up as his slipped his tongue inside her warm center.

“Please, Dean…” her hands pulling tighter on the blankets as she lifter her head watching as Dean moved his mouth back to her clit. His green eyes met her lust filled blue eyes as he fastened his lips around her swollen clit and sucked hard. Her moaning grew louder as she circled her hips against his face. “Please, I need…please.” Dean smiled at her begging, watching as she came undone under his ministrations. He slipped two thick fingers inside her and pumped them slowly in and out as her breaths came in short gasps. His fingers were curling and beckoning inside of her. He put his mouth back on her clit and sucked again, never stopping the rhythm of his fingers and she went over the edge. Her hands went to his short hair and she pulled, her hips trembling as her orgasm washed over her. He gave her pussy one final long lick tasting her cum before stretching back over her body. “I love you.” She said huskily, lifting her head to kiss his chin and lips, tasting herself on them.

Dean pushed inside her slowly, eyes never leaving her face. Watching as her eyes fluttered shut and a smile tugged at her open lips as he stretched and filled her just the way she needed. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He leaned his forehead down and rested it on hers, their noses brushing and breaths mingling in warm pants as their hips pressed against each other and he was fully inside her. 

Her hands went back to his hair and they kissed softly, Dean moving his hips in a slow purposeful rhythm. She traced kisses around his collarbone and chest lazily tracing her tongue around the pentagram tattoo. She wrapped her legs around his hips, arcing up begging him to go deeper. “You’re gonna kill me,” he muttered against her lips, “I’m trying to make love to you here.”

“I want you to fuck me,” she murmured against his ear, rolling her hips again. "Fuck me hard."

Dean growled and sat back, that being the only encouragement he needed, he pushed her legs up hooking her knees over his shoulders. His pace became more needy, hips fucking her so quick and hard that she barely had time to catch her breath. Dean never stopped talking, filthy words and promises falling off his lips as he leaned down pressing her legs as far as she could bend. She let out little high pitched cries every time his hips slammed into hers, his dick sliding almost all the way out before slamming back inside hitting her cervix in such a sweetly painful way, “Oh fuck, I need-“ 

Dean watched her face as she lost control, her fingers digging into his shoulders and chest. “What do you need,” he asked his hips. She pulled one hand away from his shoulders and dropped it down to her waiting clit, her fingers finding the overstimulated bundle of nerves pressed tightly between their bodies. If she could catch her breath she would’ve let out a scream but instead she pushed her head back into the mattress and came undone underneath him again with a strangled high pitched moan that if she wasn’t so far gone she’d would have been embarrassed about. His rhythm faltered and he came after a few more thrusts, his hot cum mixing with her own. He let her legs slide off his shoulders and she wrapped them lazily around his waist, keeping him inside of her and peppering his neck and face with lite kisses before sucking and biting his lower lip. “Thank you. I needed that,” River murmured against his neck, licking the salty sheen of sweat that coated him. 

Dean dipped his head tiredly down resting it on her shoulder, “I did too.” He let out a small laugh before pulling out of her and walking to the bathroom. She stretched her legs out, enjoying the soreness in her muscles that only he could cause. He came back a moment later and gently helped wipe her off before climbing back in the bed. She curled next to him, resting her head on his chest and soon they were both fast asleep.


	22. Chapter 22

Ch 22

One of their phones rang again a few hours later and Dean once again fumbled for it, sliding it open and putting it blindly to his ear, “Yeah, Sammy?…Dinner? Shit what time is it?” he glanced around the room and focused on the red LED numbers on the alarm clock. “Hey, baby, you want to eat?”

River sat up a moment later, ‘just fucked hair’ framing her pale face and rubbing her sleep swollen eyes, “Oh yeah, that sounds amazing. I’m starving…Sammy give us twenty.” She yelled into the phone climbing nakedly over Dean and stumbling into the bathroom to get cleaned up and dressed. She emerged fifteen minutes later hair brushed, make up on, wearing leggings and a ‘Star Wars’ shirt. Dean was tying his boots and in the middle of a conversation with Sam. 

“Look, man I told you, Castiel dropped the knife and I grabbed it. I caught Alastair by surprise. What does it matter anyways? That asshole is dead.” Sam said taking a drink out of his beer. 

Dean glanced at River as she sat next to him on the bed and pulled her own boots on, “And why weren’t you there again?”

River looked over at Sam, his brows furrowed in worry, “Sam suggested I stay behind and wait for Bobby.” 

Dean nodded and stood up, “Ok well I guess Alastair and Uriel being dead is probably a good thing. I’ll take it as a win. Lets eat.” They left the motel and walked across the parking lot to the diner attached to the motel. Dean slipping his arm around River’s shoulder and kissing her forehead. The waitress came by a moment later and took their orders. Sam smiled glad that they had made up.

 

“So, I found a couple interesting news stories on-line. Maybe we can go check one in the morning,” Sam said between bites of salad. Dean and River agreed while checking out the dessert menu. They finished their dinner and returned to their respective rooms agreeing to check out early and hit the road. The evening was looking to be pretty mundane by hunter standards, beer, bad tv, lumpy mattresses and loud sex. River rolled her hips one last time as Dean thrust his hips up into her grunting in satisfaction. She leaned down and kissed him murmuring, “Goodnight” against his lips before they both fell asleep naked and tangled together.

“Dean! Dean! River, open the damn door!” Sam’s worried voice and heavy knocks woke them. They sat up quickly and glanced at each other unsure of what the hell just happened. Dean was wearing an expensive suit and tie, River was wearing a tight a-line skirt and button up blouse.

“I had the weirdest fucking dream,” River murmured as she walked to the door, “Chill Sam, I’m coming!” She opened the door and was greeted with a harried looking Sam wearing a collared, bright yellow shirt with the logo “Sandover Bridge & Iron Co. IT support”. “What the shit? What happened last night?”

“Did you? Did we?…How did we get back here?” Sam asked barging into the room. They had a garbled conversation about hunting ghosts, Dean being in middle management, River being his personal assistant and Sam being stuck in call center hell.

“Angels…of course. I think I met Cas’s boss. Douche named Zachariah, wiped our minds dropped us in some Corporate America nightmare…I drank a kale smoothie.” Dean shuddered at the memory of the taste.

“Can we just…can we get the hell out of here?” River asked. They quickly changed out the clothes they had woke up in and hit the road. The hunters traveled to a case two states away, typical haunting, pipes rattling, people reporting phantom voices and sounds all culminating in a woman being pushed down a flight of stairs by unseen hands. “So who are we today?” River asked straightening her skirt as she climbed out of the Impala. They were parked in front of a brick apartment building, shops and restaurants lined the rest of the street. 

“FBI, investigating the assault on Mrs. Feldman. After you, Agent Armstrong,” Dean held open the door to the apartments lobby for River. She checked her hair in the glass door and noticed something in the reflection. 

“How about I go interview the neighbors and you two go chat with Mrs. Feldman?” she patted Dean’s chest, smiling up at him. 

“Yeah, sure, “ he grumbled as River walked away. She veered into a glass front store a few doors down from the apartment building. A little bell rang as River stepped into the shop and she sighed happily. She was surrounded by racks and racks of plastic sleeved comics, limited edition toys and twelve sided dice. She stepped up to the counter where a shorter man with thick glasses and a t-shirt that read “Trust me I’m the Doctor” was ringing up a customer.

“Yeah, so pretty sure Mrs. Feldman just tripped on her cat and this building is ancient, ,” Dean asserted. “Where the hell did River go?” He looked at the stores on either side of the apartment building.

“I’m gonna guess ‘Sword and Shield Comic Collective’,” Sam pointed at the shop. Dean rolled his eyes and muttered “Of course” as they strode into the shop. “Agent Armstrong?” Sam called out. Rivers hand shot up from between one of the crowded aisles and she waived them over. 

“Everyone always says how sad it was when Rose and Ten were separated in that parallel universe thing but then she got her own human Ten that she could have and hold and make love to and have cute little Whovian babies with,” River was in deep conversation with the short clerk, she was holding a stack of comics against her hip, “But then Donna…come on she was just learning to love herself and realizing that she was important and worthwhile and then boom- it’s all gone. That is tragic, right?” The man nodded his head, hanging on her every nerdy word. Dean and Sam stood behind her and Dean let out a deep sigh. River glanced up at them, “Oh right, shit. I forgot. Sorry, Lou, I’m on the clock, these are my partners Agents Plant and Paige. Agents, this is Lou he owns this amazing shop. We’re investigating the assault next door. Have you noticed anything strange? Like flickering lights? Cold spots?” River turned and handed Dean the pile of comics she had gathered. 

“Huh?” Lou answered, “Wait…I know whats going on here! You guys are LARPing!”

“Come again?,” Dean said eyebrows raised. 

“Live action role playing?” River answered. 

“Yeah you guys are supposed to be those brothers right? They travel around in a muscle car, killing monsters, having sex with beautiful women,” Lou turned and walked down another aisle, “And you’re the snarky girlfriend with a shady past…I only read a couple of those books but I think I still got some in the bargain bin.” 

River and the boys followed him to the back of his shop, “Wait? What?” He stopped in front of a box of marked down books and picked one from the pile, “Supernatural: Sin City by Carver Edlund”. The cover was a trio of poorly painted figures, two tall angular, muscled males and a woman with ample cleavage sitting on the hood of a shiny black car. “What the shit?” River read the synopsis on the back, her eyes growing wide. “What the shit is this?”

Sam picked up a few more of the books, “We need all of these, every copy you have.”

They made a quick stop at a liquor store, grabbing a couple six packs and a cheap moscato for River. They booked a couple rooms in a local motel, each picked a book in the series and began reading. Dean was flopped on one of the beds, Sam sat at the table with his long legs propped up and River was curled in an armchair, a plastic cup of wine in one hand and a paperback in the other. 

“This is everything, man. Racist truck, cursed bugs, me having sex. I’m full frontal in here,” Dean turned over and looked at the other two. River remained quiet, biting her lip, eyes tracing back and forth over the pages. She was reading a book called “Bloody Mary” and she set it down after a moment, closing her eyes.

“You alright there, Princess?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I’m just having trouble picturing the physicality of this part…”

“The fight scenes are written kind of rough, this guys obviously never been in a brawl before,” Dean answered.

“Sam can I see your hand,” River set the book down and walked to Sam. He held his hand out to her and she placed hers on top. He could easily fit one and a half of her small hands in his own. “You are a very large man, aren’t you?” she said as if noticing for the first time exactly how big he was. “Like way above average…oh. Oh my god, Sam!” she laughed and blushed, “Oh wow, wow. Really?” She reread the passage in her book. Sam grabbed the book out of her hand and began reading. He blushed and tossed the book across the room. “Yeah. You know what I shouldn’t read that…I’m gonna read this one instead.” She picked out “Sin City” and went back to her chair.

“He knows about mom and dad and Bobby. How the hell is this possible?” Dean muttered a while later. He set another book down and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“It’s not just you two. My whole trash fire of a life has been condensed to a dozen pages of exposition…the werewolf, psychotherapy, my Aunt Sue OD’ing on Xanies and Oxy when I was 17…my ass in explicit detail. I can’t even right now-“ River took another sip of wine out of her plastic cup. 

Sam had turned on his laptop and was quietly scanning through a webpage, “ So apparently there is also a thriving online community of fans for this series.” 

River lowered her book and looked at Sam, “What type of online community?”

“Umm, fan fiction, role playing, message boards….” 

River grabbed her own laptop and tapped her fingers on the table impatiently waiting for it to turn on. Once it did she quickly started typing, her eyes darting back and forth, her face going through a litany of emotions. “There’s so much smut…” she whispered after a moment.

“I know!” Sam replied, “These fans are incredibly horny.”

“What kind of smut?” Dean asked intrigued.

River let out a deep breath, “All kinds, Dean. All kinds. You and me, me and Sam, the three of us, me and John which is just ewww…the fuck is A-B-O ?" She squinted at the computer screen. " Is that like blood type porn?” She muttered to herself.

“Theres umm even me and you, Dean.” Sam said curling his lip in disgust.

“What? They know we’re brothers right?”

“They don’t seem to care.”

“FYI A-B-O has nothing to do with blood type…that is so kinky,” River added under her breath.

“Theres a big debate as to whether you’re a Mary Sue,” Sam said laughing.

River huffed, “I am not a Mary fucking Sue. Are you kidding me? I spend half the time getting my ass kicked and the other half being a bitch.” She sat closer to her laptop screen, “I’m covered in scars, fucking asshats and I don’t know jiu-jitsu… Of course I’ve got stretch marks. I don’t even brush my hair most days, you know? Some of these people are legit crazy, look at this one right here ‘I actually cheered out loud when that bitch River finally died; Dear Carver we all hate River.’ Thats just not nice.”

“Have you read any of the alternate universe stuff yet?” Sam asked looking up from his laptop, “In this one I’m a veterinarian. And Dean is a cafe owner.”

Dean made a “Hmm” noise and opened another beer, “We are so far down the rabbit hole right now.”

“Why would anyone write about this? Why even-“ River began.

“What are you like a carnie or something?” Dean laughed and Sam shook his head.

“They’re writing about…Zeppelin and Bowie,” She said quietly. Dean sat forward on the bed, watching her as she read something on her laptop. “Growing up, going to school. Becoming fucking hunters…what gives them the right? This is our lives. I’m gonna throat punch that fuck Carver Edlund.”


	23. Chapter 23

Ch 23

“Will you quit reading that crap?” Dean swatted at the paperback book River was currently nose deep in. She sat in the front seat, legs crisscrossed and fidgeting incessantly with the small lollipop chain around her neck. They were headed towards the office of the ‘Supernatural’ series publisher. Sam and River had tried finding info on Carver Edlund but had quickly hit a dead end, no last known address, no tax info, no parking tickets. They guessed Carver was a pen name and needed to find out who the man behind the curtain really was. 

“I can’t. How does he know all this shit, Dean?” River sat back and let out a deep breath.

“We’ll find out who this guy is and get some answers.” Sam replied. “Can’t you call Loki and see if he’ll just track this guy down?”

“No, Loki and I aren’t talking at the moment. He ditched me in a mosh pit in Dusseldorf,” River replied turning the page. “There is stuff in here; there is no way he knows about some of this shit. ‘BizzyBodies’ is in here babe. Nobody knows about that but you.”

Dean pulled the book out of her hand and threw it on the floor, “That’s shit between us, you and me.”

“And all of Carver Edlunds freaking readers!”

“We talked about it. It doesn’t bother me. We’ve both done lousy shit in order to survive. We’ll figure out what this guy is and why he knows so much about us.” Dean pulled the Impala up to a curb outside “Phoenix Publishing” and the three hunters walked towards the small brick building.

“You must be the bloggers, right? From ‘Craving Carver’?” a woman with two toned hair greeted the trio of hunters in the small lobby of her office. “I’m Sandra Perkins. You’re Steve and Dirk?”

Dean and Sam nodded cordially and shook her hand. She turned to River last, “And your Jane.” 

River smiled and shook her hand, “Wow, so you published the ‘Supernatural’ books.”

“Yeah, gosh those books…What team are you on?”

“Dean girl, Sam curious,” River answered without missing a beat. 

Sandra laughed, “I knew it , Dean girls always have a certain look. I’m a Sam girl through and through. Not that I’d turn down a round with either brother if given the chance.”

“I know right? I’d let Dean bang me like a screen door in a hurricane and Sam…mmm I’d scale him like Mount Kilimanjaro,” River followed Sandra into her office leaving the brothers in their wake.

“Those books…they never got the attention they deserved. Everyone wants to read all that romance crap like ‘Dr. Sexy, MD.”

“Complete rubbish,” River answered shaking her head sadly. 

“Yeah, that’s why we’re hoping that with our article we can bring some attention to this amazing series,” Sam said.

Sandra’s face lit up, “Yeah, oh my gosh that would be amazing! Maybe give a bump to sales again and get some new books published.”

“No. No, no, no. God, don’t do that,” Dean said hurriedly.

“What?” Sandra asked.

“Well, you know. The series was so complete. So perfect. Dean going to Hell and everything that happened…great ending.” Dean told her.

“Oh my god! That was one of my favorite ones. Sam trying to be the strong one, promising to keep River and the twins safe. River refusing to leave Dean’s side no matter the danger and Dean he was so strong and yet vulnerable. When he finally told River ‘I love you’ I won’t lie, I cried and I knew right then that they weren’t getting out alive.” Sandra sniffed.

River shifted on her feet, “Well at least they went down fighting together instead of dying alone, hiding somewhere.”

“You know, when Carver first started the whole Dean-River story arc, I tried to make him edit her out.” 

“Really? You were just gonna delete her?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure how the readers would take it. Dean, the bad boy, the sex god,” Sandra continued. Dean raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Spending his life traveling from town to town with his pick of beautiful women and then he meets River who’s got her own truckload of personal baggage; why would he fall for someone so damaged when he knew he’s going to die? ”

“Maybe because they’re both damaged in their own way. And I mean, they have a lot in common; they like the same movies, and books and music. The real question is why would River fall for a high school drop out with a death sentence.” Dean answered.

“Probably because Dean gave River her first real orgasm in the backseat of the Impala,” Sandra answered nonchalantly. 

River turned bright red and covered her face with her hands, “I can’t believe you just fucking told them that!” Dean’s smile grew even wider and he puffed his chest out a bit with pride looking over at his younger brother. Sandra looked at her confused . “I mean…fuck I still get secondary embarrassment for her every time someone brings that up. It’s not like…it’s not as easy as everyone seems to think it is. She’s been through a sea of shit. And then Dean sex-on-bowed-legs Winchester comes along and quotes Vonnegut and likes American thighs and is content with watching ‘The Golden Girls’ instead of getting a BJ …she didn’t have a snowballs chance in Hell not falling in love with that.”

“God, if only real men were like that,” Sandra said turning towards her bookshelf and lovingly running her fingers along the spines of the ‘Supernatural’ books.

“Real men?” Dean asked incredulous. 

“Well, I mean no offense. But Sam is so loving and unsure of himself even though he’s built like a Greek god. And Dean is such a protector and a giver, especially when he’s making love. He just gives and gives,” Sandra said with a faraway look misting her eyes. River bit her lower lip to stop herself from laughing and glanced sideways at Dean. “And they cry. Those are the best scenes. When was the last time you cried like that?”

“Lady I’m crying on the inside right now,” Dean replied. River shot him a ‘Shut the fuck up’ look and smiled at Sandra.

Sandra stood straighter and glared at Dean, instantly shifting from reminiscing fan to defensive mama bear. “Is that supposed to be funny? I don’t want some smart ass article making fun of my boys.”

“No. No, Sandra. We are legit.” River said placatingly and sending another glare to Dean. 

“We are big fans,” Sam agreed.

“You’ve read the books?” Sandra asked narrowing her eyes at Dean.

“Cover to cover,” he answered.

“What’s the make and model of Dean’s car?” 

Dean smiled, “1967 Chevy Impalla.”

“What’s May 2nd?”

“That’s my—uh I mean Sam’s birthday,” Sam answered.

“Dean’s is January 24th and Riv’s is January 1st.” Dean added.

“What was Sam’s score on the LSAT?” Sandra asked raising her eyebrows. River and Dean looked at each other then over to Sam. Sam scrunched up his forehead trying to remember.

“1…74?” That was apparently the right answer because Sandra smiled.

“Ok. Deans favorite song?”

“It’s a tie between Zep’s ‘Ramble On’ and ‘Traveling Riverside Blues’,” Dean answered.

“Who taught River how to hunt?”

“Sakura Yamamoto. Suki came into the ER where River was training and needed to be patched up after a tussle with a werewolf in Griffith park.”

“Where did River work to pay for nursing school?”

River let out a deep breath and shook her head. “ BizzyBodies strip club,” she mumbled. Sam’s eyes widened and he looked at Dean who wore an even bigger shit eating grin. River kept her eyes on Sandra but he could see the flushed pink color rising in her cheeks.

“What was her stage name and her top two songs?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” River swore. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms, “Angelfuck was my- I mean her name; took it from a Misfits song. And umm the songs were AC/DC ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’ and ‘Am I demon’ by Danzig.”

“God thats fucking hot,” Dean said.

“Shut up,” River muttered at him.

“Well, ok. Wow. What do you want to know?” Sandra gave them a bright smile and leaned back in her desk chair.

“Carver Edlunds real name.” River answered flatly.

“Oh, no. I can’t let you talk to Carver. He’s very private, like Salinger.” Sandra said. 

“We just want to talk to Carver. How did he come up with the characters and the storylines? These characters that resonate so closely with people like us and so many others.” Sam piped up. Sandra shook her head, her mouth now in a tight line. Sam looked at the other two, tilting his head. He started unbuttoning his shirt at the collar. River rolled her eyes and let out a deep annoyed breath. “Like I said we are big fans.” He pulled his shirt down and showed Sandra his anti-possession tattoo. Sandra’s smile returned and she looked to Dean and River. Dean yanked down on his shirt and showed his tattoo. River turned around and pulled her jacket off and her hair out of her way, Sandra stood up and checked Rivers ink at the base of her neck.

“Awesome. I’ve got one too,” Sandra said shyly. River turned back around in time to see Sandra bend over and pull her skirt up. She had the anti-possession tattoo on her left ass cheek.

“Awesome,” Dean told her. River rolled her eyes.

“Look, I don’t normally do this but I can tell you guys are really, truly big fans. His name is Chuck Shurley and here’s his address.” She quickly scribbled on a piece of scratch paper and handed it to River. The three hunters left in a hurry when Sandra wanted to start discussing to role sex played in the series.

“You were a stripper?” Sam asked as soon as they climbed back into the Impala.

“Not a very good one. But yeah it was before I gained 30 pounds and started collecting physical scars to go with my emotional ones.” The blush returned to River’s face, “I was a few months from eighteen and I had to do something I’m not going to discuss with you to get the job…my Aunt Sue was dead and she left me with nothing but a stack of unopened foreclosure notices. So I needed money and I needed it fast or I was gonna be homeless and lose my spot in the nursing program.”

“I’m not judging. I’m just wondering why Dean hasn’t married you yet.” Sam said smiling and turning around to face his brother. Dean started the car without answering and they headed towards Chuck Shurley’s address. 

Across town a man walked around his cluttered home, wearing yesterdays boxers, a holey shirt and a tattered bathrobe. An older laser printer spat out page after page of a manuscript onto a desk strewn with comics and half eaten pizza slices. The man picked up the first page and began reading to himself, “The hunters approached the ramshackle house with trepidation. Did they really want to learn the secrets that lay beyond that door?” He nodded and smiled. 

Dean swung the Impala up to the curb a few houses down from Shurley’s. He and Sam turned in their seat to face River, she sat in the back seat and was adjusting her hair and makeup. She had changed into her tightest, most cleavage bearing Metallica shirt. “Just get him to let you inside and make sure he keeps the door unlocked,” Dean told her as she scooted towards her door.

“I know. We’ve been over this a thousand fucking times,” She opened the door and stepped out. Sam grabbed her wrist through his open window and she turned to face him.

“Your gun?” he held out his big hand towards her. Dean leaned forward over the steering wheel eyebrows raised.

“I’m not gonna shoot him,” she huffed. The brothers gave her the Winchester death glare and she pulled her pistol from the back of her jeans and handed it to Sam. “I was just gonna wing him. A little flesh wound wouldn’t kill him.” She turned and walked across the street towards Chucks dingy little house, the yard overgrown with dead grass and knee high weeds, a rust covered car sat forlornly in the small driveway. She walked up the creaky steps avoiding a large hole in the porch floor and rang the doorbell.

“Sam and Dean sat in the car, watching as the fierce red head climbed the rickety steps. She glanced once behind her and met Dean’s green eyes. River pushed the doorbell with forceful determination,” the man re-read the last few lines and made a few grammatical changes with his red pencil. The doorbell rang loudly in his otherwise silent house and he set the pile of paper back on his desk.

River shifted on her feet, tucking her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and saw movement behind the frosted glass of the front door. The door opened a moment later and a man of about average height, or short by Winchester standards, appeared in the opening squinting at the bright sunlight.

“Hi! Are you Chuck Shurley?” River asked brightly. “The Chuck Shurley that wrote the ‘Supernatural’ books?” 

“Maybe. Why?”

“Well, I’m a huge fan,” River pulled out a paperback book from her pocket. “And if you were Chuck Shirley I would love the chance to get your autograph.” From their vantage point across the street Dean and Sam could see Chuck smile and open his door wider allowing River entrance to his home. They climbed out of the car a moment later.

“It’s great to hear from fans, umm just gimme a minute to clean up a bit and I’ll get you a drink,” Chuck left River standing in his entryway and hurried back to his sitting room where she could hear him shuffling around frantically. She turned back towards the door and opened it letting Sam and Dean in. 

“What the hell is this?” Chuck came back around the corner and stopped, staring at the three hunters. “Who are you?”

“I’m Sam, this is Dean and River,” Sam pointed at each of them. “You’ve been writing about us.”

Chuck laughed, “Ok guys. Look, I got no problem giving you my autograph but I highly suggest you get a life.”

“Oh we have a life and you’ve been using it to write your books,” Dean said taking a step towards the man. River held her hand out and Sam handed her gun back, she immediately pulled the slide to make sure it was loaded.

“Ok, wait. What the hell is this? This isn’t funny anymore!” Chuck yelled, backing up hands raised.

“No its not fucking funny, “ River stepped towards, “All we want to know is how you are doing it.”

“Doing what?” he yelled again. “I’m not doing anything!”

“Are you a hunter?” Dean yelled back walking towards Chuck. 

Chuck shuffled backwards. “NO! I’m a writer.”

“Then how do you know so much about demons? And shifters ? And Tulpas?” Sam asked calmly. Chucks knees hit the side of his couch and he toppled down onto it.

“Oh god. This is a ‘Misery’ thing isn’t it?” Chuck cried.

“Oh, baby I can go Kathy Bates on your cockadoodie ass in two seconds if you don’t start talking,” River smiled down at him.

“I don’t know what you want!” 

“We want answers. I’m Sam, this is my brother Dean and she’s River,” Sam replied, ever the peace maker.

“I made them up they aren’t real! They are just characters in my books.” 

The hunters exchanged a look, River held out her hand to Chuck and pulled him off the couch. “Come on.” Dean and Sam led them back to the waiting Impala.

“Wow you guys go all out,” Chuck laughed nervously staring at Baby.

River walked to the trunk placed her hands on it and said, “Oscail.” She looked pointedly at Chuck as it popped open and Dean leaned into it to prop it up with his shotgun. She beckoned for Chuck and he warily looked into the trunk.

“Neat trick. You’ve definitely read the books,” Chuck smiled. “Are those real guns?” 

“Yep,” Dean answered. “And real silver bullets and real holy water and real fake ID’s and real rock salt shotgun shells. And thats a pair of River’s real underwear.” He pulled out a small piece of lacy black fabric and tucked it into his back pocket.

“Well, you three are definitely my number one fans,” he slowly backed away from them. “I think I’ve got some posters in the house.” 

River grabbed his bathrobe before he could run back into the house. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Fuck, dude. We aren’t going to hurt you. We just want to know how much you know.” River said gently.

“Do you know about the angels? Or Lilith breaking the seals?” Sam asked.

Chuck gave them a surprised look, “How do you-how do you know about that? I just started writing about that stuff.”

“Because I’m Dean Winchester and this is my brother Sam and my girlfriend River McGregor.”

Chuck swallowed audibly, “How did you…Their last names aren’t in the books. I never told anyone. I never even wrote them down.”

River crossed her arms over her chest, “You want to get me that drink now?” River grabbed him gently by the elbow and led him back into the house. 

He stumbled over the threshold and hurried to his dirty kitchen where he grabbed the nearest bottle of liquor and took a few healthy swigs. River rubbed the bridge of her nose and shot Dean another annoyed look. Chuck spun around to face them, “You’re still here.”

“Yeah we’re still here,” Dean sighed.

“Well, then there’s only one answer,” Chuck said, “Obviously I’m God.”

River laughed, “I’ve met gods Chuck. You are not a god.”

“Oh yeah? How do you explain it?” Chuck sputtered. “I write things and they come true. I’m God.”

“Nope. You’re not.” Dean answered, checking the numerous half empty bottles of alcohol that were littered on every available surface of Chucks workspace.

“I am. I am a cruel, capricious god,” Chuck muttered. “I’m so sorry. The things I’ve done to you three…the physical beatings alone.”

Sam gripped a chair and stared at the man, “We’re all in one piece give or take.”

“No…I mean I burned your mother alive and murdered your father. I made you,Sam, go through it all again with Jess. And you,” Chuck looked at River.

“Don’t,” she warned him.

“Jesus. You’re family, I ripped them apart. And….that shapeshifter. That was… I had nightmares for weeks after writing about that.”

“You had nightmares? I lived it.” River said dangerously low.

“Then you two finding love and acceptance and creating something that was entirely your own. Those two, innocent babies representing so much; hope, life and a future. But then I snatched it from you so horrifically. I tore you apart Dean and River, I’m so so sorry. And what did I do it for? Literary symmetry? If I had known it would come true I never would have written it.”

A beer bottle shattered against the wall behind Chucks head causing him to stop his soliloquy. “I am not a fucking plot device,” River yelled, grabbing another beer bottle. “This is our lives. They were our lives before you started writing, you didn’t create us! You didn’t make any of those things happen. You are just some schlub with some sort of psychic powers!”

“River,” Dean put a hand on her arm and took the bottle away from her. “Go take a walk.”

She took a shaky breath, “He’s not God, he’s a fucking hack.” River turned and walked out into the main hallway.

“What does she mean psychic? I’m not psychic.”

Sam took a deep breath, “Look man, it’s the only thing that makes sense. And for some reason you’re just focused in on our life.”

“Hyper-focused,” Dean added.

“If I were psychic why would I write? Writing is hard,” Chuck said flopping into the chair in front of his computer. River returned a moment later and sat down silently across from him.

“You been writing anything lately, Chuck?” she asked.

Chuck grimaced, “Yeah actually…It’s just weird. Very Vonnegut.”

“ ‘Cat’s cradle’ or ‘Slaughter-house Five’ Vonnegut ?” Dean asked River smiled at him and muttered “Nerd.”

“It’s ‘Kilgores Trout’ Vonnegut. I wrote myself into, wrote about me being at my house and being confronted by my characters,” Chuck picked up the pile of freshly printed manuscript pages and handed them to Dean.


	24. Chapter 24

Ch 24

“I’ll stay here. I’m not done talking to him yet, I’ll be nice I promise.” River walked the brothers to the Impala, “Don’t lose any of my socks.” 

Sam and Dean strode into the laundromat and staked out a row of washing machines, they started separating laundry into lites and darks and tossing the piles into the waiting drums. “Did you just smell her shirt?” Sam asked, Dean tossed the piece of clothing along with the underwear he still had in his back pocket into the washer.

“It smells like her shampoo. Shut up.” They slammed the lids closed and Dean sat on top of one of the machines and pulled the pages Chuck had given him out of his pocket. After a moment he looked up at his younger brother, “I’m sitting at a laundromat reading about myself sitting at a laundromat reading about myself. My head hurts.”

“There’s gotta be something this guys not telling us,” Sam said putting a few quarters in the washing machine.

“River’ll get him to talk. No way, listen to this dude: ‘Sam threw his gigantic darks into the machine. He was starting to have doubts about Chuck. ‘River’ll get him to talk,’ Dean told his younger brother.”

“Shut up,” Sam said growing more aggravated. 

“ ‘Shut up,’ Sam said. Guess what you do next?” Dean said reading from Chuck’s pages. Sam turned his back on Dean his face brooding and pensive and hey, you just thought I was a dick.”

“Hmm, he’s pretty good.” Sam turned back around smiling. “What’s River doing? She hasn’t started to waterboard him right?” 

Dean scanned through the pages, “The author and the red headed hunter sat silently across from each other at the cluttered dining room table. Steaming cups of coffee in front of each. Her blue eyes pierced directly into his soul and he swallowed audibly. ‘You’re a lot more intense then I envisioned.’ The author said nervously.” Dean laughed.

“Sounds about right.” Sam said. “I don’t know how someone so short can be so scary sometimes.”

River gripped the coffee cup and took a sip of the bitter liquid. “Did you write anything about what happened after…after Lilith.”

“I uh, I didn’t write anything about Dean being in hell if thats what you mean,” Chuck replied.

“How about anything about me? Do you know who healed me?” she asked, worrying her lower lip with her teeth.

“No, not really. I mean…it’s hard to explain how I write. I get headaches, I drink, I pass out and sometimes things come to me in my dreams. I dreamt of you being surrounded by light, I thought you were dying. Going to heaven or something but then a few weeks later I dreamt of you and Dean in your apartment.”

River nodded and let out a deep breath, “You don’t happen to have any Xanax do you?”

“She’s really worried about that isn’t she?” Sam said once Dean finished reading aloud.

Dean nodded his head, “Yeah, I guess. She doesn’t talk about it. I think she’s worried she owes someone.” The dryer buzzed and the brothers pulled their fresh laundry out, taking the clothes out and rolling them up. Deans phone rang in his pocket and he quickly answered it, “Hey princess, you ok?”

“Yeah, Chuck just had like a vision or something. I think you should come back ASAP. He’s kind of freaking out,” River said quickly into the phone. Dean could hear frantic clicking and clacking in the background and Chuck muttering to himself.

The brothers arrived back at Chucks small home a while later. River answered the door and led them into Chucks study. “Writing was so much easier before I knew it was all real,” Chuck started, nervously gripping a stack of papers in his hand. “You especially are not going to like this.” He said looking at Dean. 

Dean sat on the arm of the chair River was occupying and stared at the author, “I didn’t like Hell. I can handle this.”  
Chuck took a deep breath, “It’s Lilith. She’s coming for Sam.” 

River sat forward, “Coming to kill him?”

“When?” Dean added. 

“Tonight.” Chuck told them quietly.

“She’s just gonna show up here?” River repeated her hands subconsciously going to rub the tightening sensation in her stomach.

Chuck sat down heavily on his couch and adjusted his reading glasses, “Uh…Lilith patted the bed seductively. Unable to deny his desire and the throbbing bulge in his jeans Sam succumbed and they sank into the fiery throes of demonic passion.” River’s eyes went round and she glanced between Sam who was laughing and Dean who’s shocked face mirrored her own.

“You think this is funny?” Dean asked his brother.

“You don’t?” Sam asked still laughing. “Fiery demonic passion? Come on!”

“Wait, wait…Lilith is a little girl…”

Chuck flattened his paper and scanned a few lines, “No, this time she’s a comely dental hygienist from Bloomington, Indiana.”

“Great. Awesome.” River muttered. “What comes after his demonic booty call?”

Sam sent a bitch face at River which she ignored. “I don’t know it hasn’t come to me yet.” Chuck answered.

“Fine. Lets just…we’ll read what you got so far and go from there.” Dean said taking the stack of papers from Chuck.

“You can’t be serious. This is ridiculous.” Sam muttered.

“We need to get on the road and get as far away from here as possible before tonight,” River said pulling her jacket on and looking at Dean. He nodded in agreement and the three hunters left the authors home, Sam still muttering angrily.

“Listen to this crap, ‘Dean scratched absently at the pink flowered bandaids on his forehead. The mini-van accident hadn’t really been that bad but he was still seeing stars. River helped him into the passenger seat and as she drove away the plastic tarp taped to the back window fluttered like a crows wing.” Sam said looking at his brother.

“So?” River asked from the backseat.

“So, I’ve seen Dean gushing blood and he’d use duct tape and dirty bar rag before pink flowery bandaids,” Sam said, “A plastic tarp taped to the car and letting you drive while he’s still conscious. No way.”

Dean shrugged, “So maybe he’s got the details wrong but he has been right about everything else so far. No ways he’s gonna strike out now.”

“So we’re just gonna run?” Sam said exasperated. Dean edged the car faster on the blacktop they were now only a few miles from the town limit.

“What else are we supposed to do, Sam? I want that bitch dead, I want to rip her spleen out with my bare hands…but we have nothing to fight her with. We are in no shape to win this fight,” River said looking across the seat at the big hunter. The Impala crested a hill and Dean tapped the breaks, a line of police cars blocked the road. River grabbed the pages from Sam’s hands and began reading quickly.

“What seems to be the problem?” Dean asked the Sheriffs deputy that had ambled up to his open window.

“Bridge is out,” River told him from the backseat.

The Sheriffs deputy nodded, “Yes ma’am.”

“Is there a detour? A backroad to get to the highway? We just need to get outta town,” Dean said.

“No,” River answered.

“ ‘fraid not. Highways on the other side of this river. You need to cross the bridge to get across,” the deputy smiled amiably at them. “Guess you three will have to spend the night in town.”

“What do we do now?” Sam asked.

“Looks like we go get lunch,” River replied setting the stack of pages down on her lap. She briefly met Dean’s green eyes in the rearview mirror before he backed the car away from the line of flashing police lights.

They stopped at a diner back in town, River and Dean reading through Chucks pages.   
“So maybe we’re working harder instead of smarter,” River said after a few moments of reading. The brothers looked up at her waiting for her to continue, “This is a roadmap of what puts us on Lilith's path. We need to get off the path.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

Dean nodded catching on,”It’s a blueprint of what not to do. Chuck writes we go left then we should go right. It’s opposite day.” Sam tilted his head and agreed. “This says we get in a fight, so no fighting. Sorry no sex later,” Dean said turning to River. She shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of coffee.

Sam looked over the paper in Dean’s hand, “No bacon cheeseburger for you.”

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll uh I’ll just order something opposite.” He said smiling. The waitress came up to their booth a moment later ready to take their orders. “What’s good here?” Dean asked.

“Well if you like burgers, our bacon cheeseburger is the best in the county.”

River and Sam smiled at Dean’s internal struggle. “I’ll take the short stack special,” River told her.  
“I’ll take the Cobb salad,” Sam said handing over his menu. The waitress turned to Dean, “And you hun?”

“I will take …the Veggie Tofu Burger,” he grimaced. The waitress smiled and took their orders to the kitchen.

“That’s what I wanted to get. Stupid book,” River muttered.

“This is ridiculous.” Sam told them again.

Dean raised his eyebrows and looked at his younger brother, “Lilith is ridiculous?”

“Me hooking up with her is,” Sam replied.

River let out a quick humorless laugh, “Is Ruby really that different from Lilith? They’re both soulless, backstabbing whor-“

“Enough, no fighting remember?” Dean cut her off. Sam and River stared quietly at each other for a moment.

“This is an opportunity that you two are ignoring,” Sam said. “For the first time we know exactly when and where Lilith is going to be.”

“And?” Dean said.

“And we shouldn’t be running or hiding. We should be planning our move, we can get the jump on her.”

“How? And with what?” River said, “She ripped me apart from the inside out last time, Sam. What if she does it to one of you this time, huh? Or more hellhounds. We are not strong enough to fight her right now.” She sat back as the waitress returned with plates of food and started setting them down. 

Dean eyed his tofu burger warily before taking a bite. He groaned in satisfaction, “Oh my god, babe you’re right tofu is awesome.” 

“Told you,” River said pouring syrup on her pancakes. 

The waitress ran back up to their table as Dean took another huge bite, “Oh my gosh I am so sorry! I gave you the wrong plate. Thats a bacon cheeseburger.”

“Shit,” River muttered as the waitress took the plate away.

“So the book says Lilith finds Sam at ‘The Red Motel’,” River read from the backseat.

“Ok well, we’ll steer clear of that one then,” Dean pulled the Impala into the Toreador motel parking lot.

“Seriously dude, this place charges by the hour,” Sam grumbled as they piled into the room.

“Deal with it,” River replied scanning the room for anything overtly suspicious. She grabbed some hex bags out of her duffle and threw one to Dean. They placed them around the room and then laid salt lines in front of the windows and doors.

“So I’m just supposed to stay here all night?” Sam asked.

Dean nodded, “Yep. Hex bags and salt lines should Lilith proof the room. You stay here and no research! Use the magic fingers. Watch ‘Casa Erotica’. Do whatever you want but you’re staying here.” 

River grabbed Sam’s laptop and stuffed it into her own bag and nodded at Dean. “Yeah, well where the hell are two going? The book says you have a quickie in the front seat remember?”

“Jesus Christ Sam, We are professionals. We can contain our wild sexual appetites for one evening,” River snarked back. “The book also says Dean and me drive around all day. He’s gonna park the Impala and we are going back to that coffeeshop in town that has WiFi. Unless you want me to stay here and braid your hair and play truth or dare.” Sam glowered down at her and Dean laughed.

“Behave, No homework. Watch some porn.” Dean said over his shoulder as he and River left Sam in the motel room. “Maybe we could screw around in the backseat?” Dean said sliding in behind the steering wheel and starting the car.

“No,” River replied. “Stick to the plan, Winchester.”

“Park the car and I’ll go order our coffee,” River leaned across the seat and gave Dean a quick kiss, biting gently at his lower lip. He swatted her ass as she climbed out of the Impala and she turned around, “Behave, Winchester.” Dean grunted and pulled the car away from the curb, cruising down the block to find a parking spot. He took care making sure the windows were rolled up and all the doors locked before turning away from his beloved Baby. He made it half way across the street before the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. The hunter spun on his heels and saw a couple punk kids trying to jimmy the drivers door open on his Baby.

“Hey, you little shits get the fuck away from my car before I gank-“ The mini van came out of nowhere, slamming into Dean and pushing him up on to the hood before he landed on the hard asphalt. He groaned out “Son of a bitch” and then saw blackness. 

“You wanted to see me?” Chuck stood outside the motel room looking up at Sam’s towering frame.

“Yeah, yeah. Come in,” Sam stood aside and let the author into his room. “I just wanted to talk to you. I need to know what you’ve seen about me…when I’m not with Dean and River.” 

Chuck smiled nervously, “You mean the demon blood?”

Sam sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, “You didn’t tell them?”

“I didn’t even put in the books, Sam. I was afraid it would make you less sympathetic. I mean come on, sucking blood. You have to know thats wrong.”

“I know but…I can’t stop. Not now. I can feel it in me and if it helps us stop Lilith and stop the freaking apocalypse. Well…”

“I thought the Angels said that’s Deans job,” Chuck asked.

“Yeah, well Dean’s not Dean. Not lately, not since he got out of Hell. There’s something missing. He needs help.”  
“You feel like its all up to you? Thats quite a weight to carry.” Chuck sat down wearily across from Sam. “You have Dean and River and they have you.”

“Dean and River need to figure their own shit out. They love each other, they can’t stand each other…” Sam shook his head again, “Is it up to me? Does it rest on my shoulders?”

Chuck looked at him sadly, “I don’t know. I haven’t seen that far yet but…it seems to be the way the story is headed.”

“Son of a bitch. How hard is to park the fucking car and come back…” River grumbled angrily, dialing Dean’s phone again. He still hadn’t returned to the coffee shop and their drinks were rapidly cooling. She saw a small group of people rush by outside and then more on the opposite side of the street. “Shit.” She forgot about the coffee and ran out of the shop following the people running to join a rapidly growing crowd in the middle of the street where a minivan sat idling. “Move! Now. Let me through god damn it!” River elbowed her way through the throng of onlookers, blood rushing in her ears and heart rate racketing up. 

A blonde woman was leaning over and unmoving flannel clad figure laying the street, “Don’t move. You’ll be ok.” A little girl kneeled next to her and was applying something to the figures head.

“Dean!” River squatted next to him, checking his pulse and prying his eyelids open, “What the hell happened?”

Dean groaned and murmured, “Stars…”

“He…he came out of nowhere. He’s gonna be ok,” the woman said whipping her head to look at River, her gaudy silver star earrings shining in the sunlight. The little girl pressed another bandaid to Dean’s forehead.

“Pink flowery bandaids…Dean get up. We need to get the hell out of here,” She grabbed him under his shoulder and he wobbled when they stood up, his big frame slumping down on her, “Don’t freak out.”

“What?” Dean asked looked up at his car. The back window had been smashed out and little chunks of glass littered the street. “I’m gonna gank those little shits.” River helped him limp to the car. “I’m driving.”

“Nope. You’re not. ‘Cause the book says you’re not and so far we are following the Yellow brick road to a T no matter what we do.” She pushed him into the passenger seat and popped the trunk, fishing around until she found a roll of duct tape and plastic sheeting. Items probably no normal person would have in their trunk but were considered basic Hunter supplies when you never knew if you’d have a body to dispose of. She taped what she could reach and then got in behind the wheel, “Buckle up Buttercup. We’re gonna check in on Dr. Seuss.”

Dean glared at River the entire drive back to Chuck’s house as she sang happily to a Journey song and ignored him. She kicked Chucks back door in, not having the patience to pick the lock and helped Dean sit in a lumpy arm chair. “Pink looks good on you,” she said smiling as she peeled off the bandaids that littered the side of his face. They heard the front door unlock and turned towards Chucks shuffling footsteps. The author appeared a moment later, grasping a bottle of liquor wrapped in a telltale paper sack and a six pack of beer.

“Oh. Hello,” Chuck said nervously fumbling with his bundles, “I wasn’t uhh…”

“What? Expecting us? Sure you were.” River said standing up, Dean close behind her.

“You knew we’d be here because you seem to know everything thats gonna happen. And your not telling us something,” Dean surged forward and grabbed Chuck by his jacket and slammed him into the wall. 

“How are you doing it!” River yelled over Dean’s shoulder. 

“I’m not doing anything! I swear!” Chuck screamed back. Dean growled and picked the man up, spinning him effortlessly and tossing him onto the couch.

“Dean! Don’t hurt him!” a gravelly voice commanded. The hunters turned away from the frightened author and faced Castiel. “This man is to be protected.”

“What the hell for, Cas?” River asked.

“He is a prophet of the lord,” the angel continued.

“Bullshit. He’s…this a prophet of the lord? The Lord has high standards huh Cas?” River rolled her eyes.

“It’s an honor to meet you Chuck. I admire your…work.” Cas continued picking up a discarded paperback and reverently turning the pages.

“How much have you read, Cas?” River asked.

“I am familiar with most of the volumes. However, I have not been able to figure out what a Grumpy Bear is and why they would be on your undergarments.” Castiel replied a smile tugging at the corners of his serious mouth.

“That’s great. Thats real great, even the freaking angels know about my underwear,” she flung a discarded magazine at Chuck. He dodged out of the way of the flying periodical and muttered a hasty ‘Sorry.’ “And you, who said you could get a sense of humor?” She asked taking the paperback out of Castiel’s hand and throwing it into another corner of the room.

 

“Wait, did you know about this Chuck?” Dean asked pushing past Castiel.

“I may have,” Chuck cleared his throat nervously, “I may have seen some of this. But it was too…too preposterous. Writing myself into the story, ok. King’s done it, why couldn’t I? But being a prophet that’s like Bill O’Riley level douchiness.” Chuck opened his bottle of cheap whiskey and sloshed some into his waiting glass before choking down a large gulp.

“This is guy is deciding our fate?” Dean asked looking down at Chucks twitching, nervous form.

“He is not deciding your fate. He is a mouth piece for the Word,” Castiel said calmly.

“The Word? Like the Word of God? The Chuck Shurley New New Testament?” Dean asked taking the bottle of whiskey out of Chuck’s shaking hands and giving it to River.

“These books will come to be known as ‘The Winchester Gospel’.” 

“Are you kidding me?” the three humans echoed. 

Chuck pushed himself up from his chair and grabbed the bottle back from River, “Excuse me. I just…I need to get drunk.” He hurried out of his sitting room and ran upstairs away from the hunters and the angel.

“Ok. Fuck it. How do we stop it?” River asked watching Chucks retreat.

“Stop what? Lilith?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah Lilith and Sam and whatever demonic fuckery thats gonna go down tonight.”

“You can’t stop it. As the prophet has seen it so shall it come to pass,” Castiel answered. River and Dean exchanged a look and sat down on Chucks ratty couch.

“If…bear with me here, if this has all been prophecy why did Lilith make me the offer? Chuck had already written the book, there was no way to change any of it. Why make the offer if I didn’t really have a choice?”

“You had your part to play Lilith knew that,” Castiel replied.

“What the hell does that mean?” 

“River, what does it matter. It’s done,” Dean told her.

“No. Castiel I deserve to know. What was my part in the prophecy?” 

Castiel sat down, “John Winchester went to hell willingly to save his son. His greatest act of love as a father.” Dean shifted in his seat. “John was supposed to be the one to break the first seal but he wouldn’t succumb. Sam died and Dean sold his soul to bring him back. Out of love? Yes. But not the pure love of a parent for their child, it was tinged with selfishness. Dean couldn’t imagine being the only one left, alone, his family dead and gone.”

“Castiel stop, please.” Dean told him.

“Shut the fuck up, Winchester.” River told him.

“The prophecy states that the righteous man will be sent to hell in the name of purest love. Your love for your unborn sons was your part. You saved them from a horrendous, unimaginable fate and your reward was waiting for you in heaven. You can imagine our surprise when you never checked in.” Castiel finished.

“River, princess. It’s not your fault,” Dean said trying to take Rivers shaking hands in his own. 

She choked back a sob, “I…I need to get some air.” She stood up quickly and walked out the front door slamming it behind her.

“Shit,” Dean murmured running his hands tiredly through his hair. “She’ll be ok. She just needs a minute.” He said more to himself than the silent angel. “Cas, if the demon blade killed Alastair wouldn’t it work on Lilith?”

“The demon blade injured Alastair. But it didn’t kill him, Dean,” the angels blue eyes narrowed in concern. “Sam killed Alastair, he destroyed the demon.” Dean sat back stiffly, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

The drive back to the motel was mostly silent. The moon was out and reflected on the dark road as Dean pressed the Impala past the speed limit. Rivers was startled out of her thoughts when “Hey Macarena!” rang loudly from the phone in her pocket. She sighed pulling the phone out of her pocket and declined the call. Dean looked at her quizzically. “It’s Loki. I don’t feel like talkin’ to him right now.” She set the phone down on the seat between her and Dean. It started ringing again, vibrating off the seat. She grabbed it and tried to silence the phone but it kept belting out “Hey Macarena” at full volume. “Shit. Stupid…” Deans phone also started buzzing and he pulled it out grimacing when the same annoying tune screeched out. Muffled rings and vibrating from the glovebox as their stash of spare phones all rang in tune.

“What the hell?” Dean yelled angrily as the car radio also blasted on “When I dance they call me Macarena/And the boys-“. Dean spun the dial to turn the volume down, it did nothing, he started pounding on the buttons. “Get him the hell outta my car!” he roared.

“I can’t! He’s throwing a temper tantrum. I don’t wanna talk to you. You over stepping, egotistical asshat!” she yelled at the radio. The car went instantly silent and the hunters looked at each other. “Fuck. I didn’t mean that,” River mumbled rubbing her eyes tiredly. Dean pulled into the parking lot a moment later.

“You need better friends.” Dean told her.

“He’s my best friend.” River said quietly climbing out of the car. She looked over the hood of the car at the blinking motel sign, “Dean look.” Dean turned and saw the motel sign. Most of ‘The Toreador Motel’ halogen lights had burned out and it now read ‘The R-E-D Motel’. Dean slammed his car door and walked towards Sam’s motel room.

“Come on. We’re gettin’ outta here,” Dean ordered his younger brother. River started grabbing their bags and looking around the room. 

“What? Where?” Sam asked.

“Anywhere. We’ll swim if we have to,” Dean replied. 

“Where the hell are the hex bags Sam?” River asked.

Sam turned towards her, “I burned them.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because if Lilith is coming and its a big ‘IF’-“ Sam started.

Dean stood in front of his younger brother, hands on his hips, “Oh no. No no no. It’s more than an if. Chuck isn’t some psychic cheesehead he’s a prophet.”

“What?” Sam asked in disbelief.

“Cas showed up at Chucks. It’s true. Chuck Shurely is a prophet of the Lord and currently writing the Winchester Gospel,” River told him.

“Ok,” Sam said slowly.

“Ok, Then lets get our shit and get out of here,” Dean said grabbing Rivers hand and walking towards the door.

“No.” River and Dean turned back towards Sam.

“Lilith is coming her and she will slaughter you. Slaughter all of us,” River said.

“Maybe she will. Maybe she won’t. I say bring her on.”

“Sam!” Dean yelled annoyed at his stubborn younger brother. “What? You think you can take her?”

“I don’t know…what is this? You think I’ll go dark side?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” Dean and River answered. Dean turned to look at River and she shrugged her shoulders and nodded. “Yes. We do. The way you’ve been acting. The things you’ve been doing.” Sam shifted on his feet. “River told me you threw her out of our room for that bitch Ruby. You left her behind. And Alastair? Cas said you ripped him apart like it was nothing. You lied about the knife.”

“Dean, it’s not like that.” Sam said holding his hands out defensively.

“Oh no? You’ve been using your psychic powers despite being by warned by Cas. And you’re getting stronger and we don’t know why and we don’t know how. Tell me whats it like then Sammy ‘cause I’m at a total loss.” The taller hunter took a deep breath and worked his jaw back and forth remaining silent. “Are you comin’ or not?” Dean demanded.

“No.” Sam answered defiantly. Dean threw his duffle bag down and stormed out of the room.  
“River, I can do this.” 

She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold. “Maybe you can but maybe you shouldn’t. After everything he’s done for you…” She shook her head and left the room. 

Dean was standing in the middle of the parking lot, hands out stretched, eyes closed, “Look, I need help. Please. Please help us. I’m standing here praying like an idiot because I am out of options.” River walked quietly towards him not wanting to interrupt his private moment. 

“Holy fu-Cas!” she stumbled backwards when Castiel appeared in front of her with a great flap of invisible wings. Dean opened his eyes and looked at the other two. River walked in a great birth around Cas, ducking under something only she could see, eyes tracing up and behind the angel.“It’s like trying to touch moonbeams.” She timidly reached her fingers out and ran them through the air smiling, “Impressive wingspan Castiel.”

“You should see my true form,” he replied. 

River laughed again, “I’d like to keep my eyes in my head if you don’t mind.”

“Cas, thank you for coming.” Dean told the angel.

Cas nodded, “Prayer is a sign of faith, Dean. This is a good thing.”

“Does that mean you’ll help me?”

“I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

“Get Sam the hell out of here before Lilith shows up.” Dean replied.

“This is prophecy. I can not interfere.”

Dean took a step closer to the angel, “You have tested me. Thrown me all over the place. Almost got me killed, again. And I haven’t asked for anything. But I am asking you know please help me.”

“I can not. It is not with in my power,” Cas shook his head. 

“Why? Because of ‘divine prophecy’?” River asked the angel.

“Yes. I’m sorry,” Castiel answered. 

“Fuck you. Fuck your mission, fuck your god.” River curled her lip in disgust and turned away from the angel.

“So we just sit around and wait for Lilith to rip us apart, again? Well you know what when the time comes and you need my help, don’t bother asking.” Dean brushed past the trench coated angel and headed back towards their motel room.

“Dean! Dean, you must understand why I can not interfere.” Castiel said harshly. The hunters stopped and looked back at the angel. “Prophets are very special. They are protected.”

“I get that!” Dean spat at the angel.

“If anything, anything at all threatens a prophet. An archangel will appear.” River took a sharp breath stopping herself before she subconsciously touched the small dangling charm around her neck. “They are fierce. They are absolute. They are heavens most terrifying weapon.”

“These archangels are tied to prophets?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” Castiel nodded slowly.

“So if a prophet and a demon were in the same room…” 

“Then heavens most fearsome wrath would rain down on that demon.” Castiel’s eyebrows raised and he shrugged his shoulders slightly, a movement that was so human on the normally stoic angel that River smiled. “Just so you understand why I can’t help.”

“Thanks Cas,” River stepped forward and gave him a lite kiss on the cheek.

“Good luck,” he told them before disappearing. 

“Lets go get Dr. Seuss,” Dean said. They hurried back to the Impala and sped across town to Chucks house. Dean kicked in the front door this time and they found Chuck half drunk on his couch, sadly clutching his bottle of cheap whiskey.

“Oh god, what are you doing here? I didn’t write this,” Chuck asked clutching his whiskey bottle tighter.

“You’re coming with us, Chucky.” River smiled brightly down at him as Dean grabbed him by his jacket.

“What? No. Where?” he asked nervously pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Back to the motel with us.” Dean answered smiling and gently straightening out the prophets clothes.

Chuck shook his head, “No. That’s where Lilith is.”

“We need you to help us get rid of her.” River grasped him gently around the shoulders.

“No. Hell no. I know what she is capable of. I wrote her. I wrote about the things she did to you,” Chuck stared down at River.

“Listen, you have an archangel tethered to you. A personal, heavenly Kevin Costner that will come runnin’ if somebody or something threatens you. All you gotta do is show up and boom a heavenly elbow drop will rain down on her demon-skank ass.”

Chuck pushed River away, “No, no , no I haven’t seen that yet.”

“Chuck, damn it you are our last hope right now. You know what Lilith did to me. I felt everything, she made sure I did. I can’t go through that again.” River pleaded with him.

“I am just a writer!”

“This isn’t a story anymore, man. It never was. This is real and you are in the middle of it. We need you to get off your ass and fight!” Dean yelled.

Chucks eyes grew wider, staring back and forth between the hunters. “No fucking way. Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Ok you know what. I’m done being nice,” River said. “I have a gun in my pocket and I will blow your dick off if you don’t help us.”

“But-but Dean said I was protected by an archangel,” Chuck answered.

River smiled and looked over her shoulder at the green eyed hunter behind her. “Interesting hypothesis. Lets see who’s the quicker draw. Pissed off human or angelic heavy weight.” 

“If we live, I hope I don’t see any of you ever again.” Chuck grumbled from his position between the two hunters in the front seat. 

River smiled watching as Dean edged the Impala closer to 90. “I thought we were making real strides towards friendship. I wouldn’t really shoot your dick off, Chuck.” Dean swung the Impala into the parking lot and River jumped out grabbing Chuck by the wrist and dragging him with her. They ran to the motel door and Dean kicked the door open. Sam was struggling with a tiny, lithe blonde for control of the demon blade.

Chuck ran into the room and yelled, “I am the prophet Chuck!” River and Dean slammed the door after him and quickly took in the scene. Sam breathing heavily from his fight, the white eyed demon Lilith seething with anger. 

“Are you joking?” she screamed. The motel began shaking, bits of plaster raining down from the ceiling, the windows shaking in their frames and anything not secured down toppled over. 

“No joke you white eyed cunt. Chuck here is a prophet of the lord and has a Archangel on his shoulder. An Archangel that seems to be preparing for a very dramatic entrance.” River yelled over the cacophony of shaking and crashing. The windows lit up with a brilliant ethereal light and the shaking intensified making it difficult for them to remain upright.

“You got less than ten seconds before this room is full of heavenly wrath and your a piece of charcoal. You sure your up for that fight?” Dean yelled at the demon who was still clutching the knife. The demon turned her white eyes on each of them a hate filled sneer curling her lips before she tilted her head back and let out a scream. A thick cloud of black smoke surged out of the woman’s open mouth and crashed through the nearest window leaving the vessel dead on the floor of the motel room. The shaking and light immediately withdrew, leaving the humans breathing heavily.

“Everybody ok?” River asked, eyeing Chuck especially. He nodded and dragged his fingers down his face muttering to himself. “You think we can get the fuck out of this town now?”

 

“She wanted to make a deal?” River asked sometime later. They safely deposited the prophet Chuck back at his home with a healthy supply of liquor and the boys fixed the shattered locks on his front and back doors and found much to their liking that the bridge out of town was back in operation. 

“Yeah. Me and Dean dead. And she’d stop.” Sam answered.

Dean looked at his younger brother, “Just call the whole thing off the seals, demons, Lucifer. She’d walk away?”

“That was the gist of it,” Sam said tiredly.

“You didn’t think about taking the deal? Not once?” Dean asked.

“No. She’d find some way out of it. And all it would cost us is our lives.” Sam said, “Besides that’s not the point.”

“Then what is it, Sam?” River asked leaning forward over the seat.

“She’s scared. I could see it. Lilith is running,” he replied. “She’s right about one thing. She’s not gonna survive the apocalypse. I’ll make sure of that.” River sat back and Dean’s worried eyes met hers in the rearview mirror, the plastic sheet flapped incessantly in the cold wind as they barreled out of town.


	25. Chapter 25

Ch 25

“Mornin’ Sugar Cookie.” River’s eyes sprang open as the Impala veered wildly on the road, Dean muttering an angry “Son of a bitch” as he straightened the car out.

“Get the fuck outta my car!” Dean yelled over his shoulder at the Trickster. River stared wide eyed at her friend, shaking her head and glancing nervously between him and the Winchesters in the front seat. Sam had reached for his gun and was looking like he was ready to shoot. 

“Are you insane! You can’t be here with us!” River yelled at her honey eyed friend and raised her hand to block Sam’s gun. “I am sorry for I what I said. Please get out of here.”

“That’s not good enough lemon drop. You’re comin’ with me. Boys, I’ll return her in one piece. Probably.” With a snap of his fingers he and River disappeared. They reappeared an instant later in one of Gabriel’s safe houses. Gaudy furniture, mirrored ceilings, grainy punk music playing in the background and every imaginable type of candy and sweet within reach. “You think you can just drop me like a bad habit, lollipop? After everything I’ve done for you.”

“Gabe, I know. I’m sorry but you don’t understand what’s going on right now.”

“I don’t understand? I was there when Daddy locked up Lucifer and threw away the key.”

River wrapped her arms around herself, “Then help us. You could smite Lilith in a second if you wanted to. End this before she gets any further. We need you on our side.”

“I can’t. You know I can’t choose sides.”

“You’ve already chosen a side; your own! You sit back and watch as I get my ass handed to me, Dean almost dies again and Sam- what the fuck is going on with him?”

“This has to play out….it’s prophecy remember.” Gabriel chose a piece of licorice out of one the bowls and took a bite. River grabbed a handful of peanut M and M’s and pelted him with them.

“Prophecy, right. ‘cause your real concerned with that. I was supposed to die, Gabe, remember.”

“You did die, sugar. I resurrected you,” the archangel winked at her, “There’s always wiggle room.”

“You kept me from heaven, you brought me back for what? To watch the world end? To be terrified of being ripped apart by Lilith again? Or having Dean or Sam or both them die in front of me?”

He turned on his heel with a flourish, “Don’t be so dramatic. Heaven will be there the next time one of those idiot Winchesters gets you killed.”

“I just want to be with my sons again. I want to meet them. I want to watch them grow up. I want to stop feeling like this,” she said quietly squeezing her eyes shut against the burning tears that threatened to spill out. 

“If I could fix this I would,” Gabriel tapped her forehead and gathered her in a strong hug. Since he was only a few inches taller then her she could easily rest her head on his shoulder and took a deep breath. He always smelled like a bakery: vanilla, brown sugar and chocolate. “I wish I could tell you if you went to heaven right now they would be waiting for you. But they aren’t. They weren’t born lollipop, they didn’t draw breath. Their souls went somewhere else.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know everything, Lemon drop. I just want you to stop being sad. You’re a real bummer to be around sometimes.” 

River sniffed, “You need to take me back, Dean’s gonna be pissed.”

“When is Captain Douchepants not pissed at something? Come to Madrid with me. I found this place with amazing Sangria.”

She chewed her bottom lip for a moment. It had been months since she’d been able to go out with Gabriel. “Your little brother, Castiel , has a really bad habit of just popping up unannounced. Dean could send him looking for me. You could get caught.”

He waved his hands at her dismissively, “I’ll take that as a yes.” He snapped his fingers again and they disappeared from the safe house. Three pitchers of Sangria and a dozen rounds of Flamenco dancing later Gabriel deposited her into the backseat of the Impala. Her snoring woke Dean from where he had been sleeping off his own hangover in the front seat. He sat up groggily letting his hazy vision focus for a moment. Realizing the giant body of his brother had been replaced by River’s much smaller, softer form. Her red hair splayed out around her pale face, her arm thrown over her eyes and one leg hanging over the front seat. “Wake up, Princess.” He pushed her leg off the seat and she grumbled angrily turning over and burrowing into the soft leather. Dean stretched and got out of the car watching as Sam walked back towards him carrying a sack of food and two cups of coffee. “Riv’s back, pretty sure she’s sloshed,” he rolled his eyes and drank the hot coffee his brother had procured. “We need to find a way to kill that trickster and make sure he stays dead.” The brothers sat on the hood of the Impala and ate their breakfast sandwiches, enjoying the cool air blowing off the lake they were parked in front of.

“Will one of you answer that fucking phone!” a disgruntled voice yelled from the backseat. The brothers looked through the front window and saw River sit up, climb ungracefully over the front seat and begin digging through the glovebox. She found the offending phone and held it to her ear.

“Who the hell is this? Adam Milligan? You’re looking for John Winchester?” she waived to the brothers and they slid off the hood, “Umm…listen, John Winchester died two years ago. Who are you?…I see…Hey kid, I worked with John I can help you, give me your address.” She reached back into the glovebox and grabbed the pad of paper and pen they had stashed there. She quickly scribbled out the provided info and hung up the call. River clutched the old flip phone in her hand and looked at Sam and Dean. 

“Who the hell was that?” Dean asked.

“This was John’s phone,” she said absently scrolling through the contact list. “My old number is still in here…I think we need to go to Minnesota.”

“What the hell for?”

“That kid, Adam, said he’s John son,” she said quietly handing Dean the phone and the piece of paper. “Said he needs help. His mom went missing a few nights ago.” The brothers stared at her wordlessly for several minutes before looking at each other and sharing a silent conversation. They walked to the trunk and River heard then shuffling things around before they climbed into the front seat. Dean had John’s journal and Sam had his laptop and was quickly checking the viability of Adam’s story.

“As far as I can tell Adam is real. Mom is Kate Milligan, no father listed on the birth certificate. Born 1990. Graduated high school with honors. He’s a freshman at the University of Wisconsin…” Sam listed off. River had called Adam back when they were four hours outside of Windom and suggested they meet at a diner. Dean had been silent and brooding for most of the ride, his jaw clenched, fingers squeezing the steering wheel. He swung the Impala into the parking lot at Cousin Oliver’s Diner in Windom, Minnesota and jumped out of the car as soon as he cut the engine off. River met him at the trunk and they started gathering various weapons and tucking them into pockets and holsters. “Are you guys listening?” Sam said after a moment.

“Yep. Eagle scout, no police record, blah blah blah still might be a monster,” River smiled, “I’ll set next to him, you two sit across. Looks like a small diner, if shit hits the fan there might be a lot of witnesses.” Dean grunted and they chose a booth at the back of the restaurant. The hunters quickly scanned the building, only one entrance, windows facing the streets, kitchen to the left. River slid into the seat next to the window, Dean sat across from her and Sam next to him. The waitress came quickly and set the table for them setting down glasses of water and place settings. River grabbed one of the sets of flatware and unceremoniously threw them under the table replacing them with a set of actual silver utensils; Dean dumped the glass of water into the silk plants on the windowsill and emptied his flask of holy water into it.

“What are you guys doing? I’m telling you this guy checks out,” Sam said watching as River and Dean worked in tandem preparing for Adam.

“Checks out how? That he’s a person that was born on planet Earth? Too bad he’s got a demon in him. This is a trap,” Dean grumbled. “Using Dad? This guys gonna be sorry he ever climbed out of the pit.”

“Dean, there’s an entry in dads journal from January 1990, he’s headed to Minnesota for a case. The next couple of pages have been torn out,” Sam said showing his brother the journal. Dean’s green eyes darted down to scan through his fathers neat handwriting. “Come on. Dad would be gone for weeks at a time. Hunter rolls into town, kills the monster, saves the girl…that was your exact M.O. before we met River, where did you learn it from?” Dean rolled his eyes at his younger brother.

“Could be a shifter. Or a Leyak or a Mai-coh…I think thats him,” River said watching as a young, blonde man walked quickly into the diner. River turned in her seat and waved, “Adam?” she called brightly.

“River?” he walked up and held out his hand. 

She shook it quickly and made him sit, “This is Sam and Dean, they worked with your dad too.” Adam held out his hand to the brothers, Sam gave him a brief shake and Dean ignored him.

“The usual Adam?” the waitress called from the kitchen.

“Yeah, Gretchen. Thanks. Did you guys order?”

“We’re not hungry. So you’re John’s son?” River asked pushing herself flatter against the window watching as Dean shifted in his seat no doubt aiming his gun under the table at Adam.

“Umm… Yeah.” Adam paused. He picked up the glass of holy water in front of him took a drink and the three hunters held their breath. He put the glass back down unfazed, smiling as Gretchen brought his plate of food. “You sure you guys aren’t hungry?” River and Sam shook their heads quickly, watching as he picked up the silver fork and took a bite of his omelet. Sam smiled and visibly relaxed into his chair, River glanced at Dean and raised her eyebrows eyes darting down to the gun he still had trained on Adam. Dean clenched his jaw and uncocked the gun. “So, how did he die? My dad? We never even got a call.” The three hunters looked at each other unsurely.

“He died on the job.” Sam answered. 

Adam set his fork down, “He was a mechanic, right?”

“Car fell on him, “ Dean grunted. 

“When was the last time you saw John?” River asked.

Adam let out a long breath, “Been a couple of years. My high school graduation I think.” River smiled gently at him, casting a sideways glance at Dean and Sam. Dean, who had dropped out because he didn’t see the point and Sam, who had walked across the stage alone while his father and brother were hunting vampires two states over. 

“Why try and reach him now?” River asked.

“He’s the only family I got left. My mom is missing and the cops…they aren’t helping.”

“If you’re John’s son, how come we’ve never heard of you?” Dean suddenly asked.

Adam shrugged, “We weren’t very close. He wasn’t in my life until I was eleven. I asked my mom who my dad was; told her I wanted to meet him. She was kind of embarrassed, it was a weekend fling. She met him in the ER where she worked, he was in a car accident or something. Came in real banged up…” he paused again and took another drink of water. “She found one of his old numbers and we called him. When he found out he had a son he drove all night to meet me. I think he tried to make up for lost time when he could except he wasn’t around very often; he’d just kind of breeze into town for a few days and then he’d be gone for months. We’d be lucky if we got a phone call. He bought me my first beer when I was 15. Taught me how to drive…he had this beautiful ’67 Chevy Impala.”

Dean slammed his hand on the table causing several patrons in the small diner to look back at them, “You know what? You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not.” Adam retorted.

“This is bullshit and you are a damn liar,” Dean spat. River reached a hand across the table and laid it gently on his.

“Excuse me but who the hell are you to call me a liar?” 

“WE are John Winchesters sons, thats who. We are his sons.” Dean yelled.

Adam sat back, his eyes and face brightening. “I have brothers.”

“No you don’t.” Dean said shortly.

“Oh my god, are you my sister?” Adam asked turning to River.

River laughed, “Hell no. I got enough issues with out being one of John’s kids.”

“Fuck this. I’m done. I don’t know what type of game your playing at. If you’re a hunter…” Dean said standing up and nodding for River to follow. She stayed in her seat and looked towards Sam.

“I’ve never been hunting in my life!” Adam said to Dean as he walked angrily towards the exit, “I can prove it!” 

The hunters held a heated conversation in the semi-privacy of the Impala. Adam leaning against his car watching as the three argued. “God damn it, Dean. He is the real deal, he is your family and he needs help. This kid doesn’t know a thing about what John really did. If this gets out, if Lilith or the Angels or any other big bad finds out about him, he is yesterdays meatloaf.” River told him angrily from her position crammed in between the two giant hunters.

“How would you feel if some rando called and said he was your long lost brother, huh?” Dean shot back.

“I don’t know D. My family was eaten by a fucking werewolf 22 years ago. I didn’t have a Sam, or a you, or a Bobby. I didn’t have anyone but a mean old cunt that shared a few strands of DNA with me,” she replied crossing her arms angrily over her chest. Dean stared at her for a full minute while she obstinately stared out the front window, he glanced over her strawberry blonde head and glared at his younger brother. Sam climbed out of the car and walked to Adam, they shared a few short words before Adam smiled again and shook his hand. He turned and got into his beat up Honda and waived at them before turning out of the parking lot. Dean started the Impala and followed him silently.

River squeezed Dean’s knee affectionately as he parked in front of a small, well maintained home. Sam climbed out of the car first. “You’re a good big brother,” she told Dean kissing him gently before sliding out after Sam.

“He took you to a baseball game?” Dean asked incredulously. He held a framed photo of a smiling John Winchester and Adam wearing matching baseball caps.

“Yeah, I think I was 14. What’d dad do with you?” Adam asked innocently. River choked on a laugh and looked at the remainder of the family photos.

Sam skimmed through his dads journal, “September ’04 one entry, Minnesota”

“This your mom?” she asked pointing at a smiling woman in another photo. 

Adam nodded, “Yeah, she’s a nurse. Works nightshift in the ER.”

“I used to work in ER,” River smiled.

“I thought you worked with my dad in the shop,” Adam asked.

“I used to do a lot of things,” she answered quickly. “When was the last time anyone saw your mom?”

“Yeah, our neighbor Mr. Abernathy saw her come home Tuesday morning, she never showed up to work Wednesday night.” Adam cleared his throat and held the picture of his mom tighter, “I got a call from the police. I left school, drove all night. I should’ve been here.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably, feeling ashamed at yelling at him at the diner, “What’d the cops say?”

“Not much. They checked the house said maybe she just skipped town went on some vacation or…” he stopped again, his voice cracking. “She wouldn’t leave without telling me.” Sam took over interviewing Adam while River and Dean investigated the rest of the house. They quickly found their way to Kate’s room. River checked behind furniture and in the closet while Dean lost himself in more photos of his smiling father.

River watched him pick one of the photos, hand shaking either from barely suppressed rage or grief. She snaked her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. “He just…everything was always about the hunt. Fighting, killing, running…you know what he did for my fourteenth birthday? He buried me in a pine box and made me dig my way out. Then he yelled at me when I finally got out for taking too long.” Dean set the photo back on the dresser and turned to face River. “I was never good enough for him. He was proud of this little fairy tale. He didn’t want me to ruin it.” 

“Bullshit. You’re a good man despite being raised by John Winchester,” she cupped his chin in her hand and brought his lips down to meet hers. A board creaked in the hallway and the hunters turned and found Adam standing nervously in the doorway. “So Adam, the cops told you the nightstand was knocked over?”

“Yes but there was no signs of a break in.” He stepped into the room and looked around noting the look shared between River and Dean. “You think the cops missed something?”

“Maybe. They don’t have my eyes,” Dean said moving back towards the window and checking the lock and screen.

“You’re a mechanic.” Adam replied. Dean nodded and River smiled walking towards the nightstand. “Dean, tell me about dad.” 

River turned around and stared at Dean from behind Adams back, he rubbed his jaw nervously and avoided her blue eyed stare. “Not much to tell. I mean you knew him.”

“Not like you did.”

“Trust me kid. Just drop it,” he paused when Sam motioned to him from the hallway. “Why don’t you ask Riv about Dad? I’ll be right back.” Dean met his younger brother in the hallway while River raised her eyebrows expectantly at Adam.

“So umm did you meet Dean at work or…” 

 

“Yeah at work.” She answered quickly turning her attention back to the nightstand and the floor underneath. “What the hell?” she muttered quietly. Eight deep gouges marred the dark wood floor under the bed. “Dean, Sam I got something.” The brothers returned to the room and River pointed to the marks.

Dean got his hands and knees next to River, “Help me move the bed.” Adam nodded and the two shoved the bed several feet away from the wall revealing a metal grate in the floor. The hunters faced each other in a circle and held their fists out to play the ageless game of rock, paper, scissors.

“If I get stuck, just let me fucking die in there ok. I swear to the gods if you call the fire department and they have to use the jaws of life to get my chubby ass out…”

“Curvy ass,” Dean interrupted patting her butt appreciatively. “And your shorter and bendier you can get around any turns easier than us.”

“Shut up. Gimme the flash light,” River took a deep breath and leaned down cautiously flashing the light in the small, narrow metal duct that ran under the floor. Seeing no immediate threat River dropped the flashlight and her gun gently into the hole and climbed ungraciously head first into the duct.

“Just scream if something tries to eat you,” Sam yelled after her then looked up at Adam’s shocked face. “Sorry, it’s an inside joke.” Dean paced around the room, listening for the soft clanging coming from under the floor as River progressed through the ventilation system.

 

“Communication breakdown/ it’s always the same/I’m having a nervous breakdown/drive me insane…” River voice echoed out of the one of the ducts in the hallway followed by a thud and “Fuck.” She never realized she was claustrophobic until she had to squeeze her ass into a 36x36 metal duct that may or may not have a monster hiding somewhere in it. A few feet into the duct and River noticed the first dark red splash of blood on the bottom and side of the metal. 

“Baby, you ok?” Dean yelled into the duct.

“Yeah, I got blood in here…I’m gonna keep looking,” her voice came back fainter as she pushed further into the house, “Hey girl I got something you ought to know…”

“Is she singing? Why is she singing?” Adam asked Sam, “She’s said theres blood in there.”

“She’s sings when she’s nervous. She likes the noise. She’ll let us know what she finds. Why don’t you go make us some coffee,” Sam told him gently.

She came upon an intersection in the duct and took a deep breath gripping her gun and the flashlight tightly in front of her, “Sam always chooses rock…” She pushed out and to the right and came face to face with another grate and a pair of green eyes. River let out a startled scream. “Son of a bitch! I could’a shot you!”

“Just checkin’ on you. You stopped singing,” Dean smiled back.

“You could’ve done the chivalrous thing and done the spelunking,” she grumbled pushing backwards into the duct she had just come out of.

“If I had done that it would have undermined our entire system of checks and balances. Ro sham bo brings balance to the universe, sweetheart.”

“Ka is a wheel,” River muttered as she backed up far enough and shimmed in the tight metal duct enough to turn the other direction. This side of the duct was covered in clotted blood, patches of hair and left over lumps of flesh. “Shit,” she murmured sadly. “D, I’m going back.” More cursing and rattling came from the duct as River turned around and went back the way she came. Two strong arms reached down and helped pull her out of the confining space. “Blood, chunks of stuff…Adam should probably get the police back out here and we should get scarce.”

River briefly told Adam what she had found and gave him specific instructions on what to tell the police as Sam and Dean returned the grate and bed to their original positions. Then the hunters climbed into the Impala and headed to the only motel in town. “So your dad was hunting something here 20 years ago and he didn’t kill it?” River asked sitting crosslegged on the floor cleaning her shotgun.

“ Maybe. There was a string of grave robberies and missing corpses back in 1990,” Sam told her. “Then nothing. Then it picked up again a few weeks ago. There’s been a few missing bodies and one other missing person. Some bar tender.” 

“So…something thats been taking dead bodies suddenly get a taste for live flesh?” River said to herself. “Hi, Cas.” The trench coated angel appeared in their motel room with a flutter sending Sam’s pile of newspaper clippings all over the room.

“Hello, Dean. River. Sam,” he nodded to each of them in turn. The angel stood in the center of the room looking very unsure of himself.

“You need something Angel?” River asked after an amused moment of staring at the socially awkward heavenly being.

Cas nodded, “I…I need Dean’s help.”

“Cas, we’re kind of in the middle of something,” Dean told him shortly. Castiel shifted on his feet nervously and remained silent.

“What do you need, Cas?” River asked standing up and putting her gun on the bed next to Dean.

“We believe we have tracked another of Lilith's top commanders. My superiors want her captured for interrogation.”

“ ‘Cause that worked so great last time?” Dean said angrily. 

“Dean, I don’t call the shots as you humans are fond of saying,” he said sighing loudly. “I simply follow them. To the best of my ability.”

River grinned, “Is that sass, Castiel? That isn’t very becoming of an Angel. Why do you need Dean’s help to capture another Demon douchebag?”

“The demon has barricaded herself in a building that is warded against angels. We fear she may be trying to break a seal as well as muster Lilith’s forces against an angelic battalion we have stationed nearby. We need Dean to break the seals so we can lay siege.”

“You don’t really need Dean, though. You just need a human to break the warding, right?” Sam asked.

“Technically that is correct.”

“So go grab some poor schmuck and give them the know how to break the warding so you can smite some black eyed assholes. I’m busy.” Dean barked.

“Where is the demon?” River asked crossing her arms over her chest.

“A place called Los Angeles; it is home to several million humans. If the demon troops descend it could be catastrophic.” Castiel stated. River smiled and chewed her lip giving Dean a coy smile.

“No. Absolutely not.” Dean barked. 

River tilted her head and stepped closer to Dean, pulling at his shirt all the while continuing to smile up at him. “Come on, hot stuff. I haven’t been home in forever. I’ll be fine. I got Mickey Blue Eyes to look after me.” Dean sighed loudly and glared at Sam who had started snickering. “ This is a Winchester family thing; You and Sam need to figure out what you want to do about all this and you don’t really need me on this case.”

“I need you,” Dean told her quietly.

“I do not understand. Dean are you accompanying me to Los Angeles?” Castiel asked quietly.

“No,Cas. Dean and Sam are working a case. I’ll go,” River volunteered. The angels eyes narrowed and brow furrowed together as he considered his alternatives. River grabbed her duffle bag and began tossing her weapons and ammo into it. “Come on, Cas. You need a human you can trust to not fuck this up and I just happen to be a human that will try my damnedest not to fuck this up.”

“It could be very dangerous.” Castiel deadpanned.

“Sounds fantastic. Can I have the demon knife please?” River asked Sam. “Relax Cassie. I’ll take you to this awesome hot dog stand, we’ll get vegan chili dogs and onion rings then go fuck up some demon bitch’s day.” She finished packing her supplies and swung the duffle bag over her body.

“I don’t eat.” He responded.

River let out a deep breath. “You’re gonna eat a chili dog and some onion rings and fucking like it. Ok, Angel?” Castiel gulped and cast Dean a nervous glance. 

“Good luck,” Dean said shaking his head. River gave Sam a quick hug and kissed Dean goodbye.

“You know, while we’re there we should swing by Beverly Hills and see if we can find a doctor to remove that stick you have shoved up your ass. I’m surprised I can’t see twigs coming outta your nose,” River told Cas as she stood next to him. “Let’s go I’m starving.” Castiel gave Dean one last pleading look and with a flutter of wings they disappeared from the room.

Not ten minutes later a frantic knock sounded on their motel door. “What now?” Dean yelled. Sam checked the peephole before opening the door.

Adam pushed through yelling, “You two better tell me who the hell you are! My home is a crime scene! My mom is probably dead! You tell me to call the cops and then you bail before they get there!” 

Dean set his beer down and held up his hands in surrender, “Look kid, relax.”

“Relax! Relax! Who are you guys really? And where the hell is River?” Adam exclaimed shoving his hands in his pockets.


	26. Chapter 26

Ch 26

Castiel and River touched down in an empty alley a moment later. River staggered to her knees as her equilibrium struggled to catch up; traveling with Cas was a far less finessed experience than Gabriel. “I’m sorry. I haven’t flown with a human before. Are you ok?” Cas reached out one hand and effortlessly pulled River to her feet.

“Yeah I’m just glad I skipped the in-flight meal.” She said closing her eyes and letting out a shaky breath. She wiped at the sheen of sweat that had broken out on her forehead. “Where are we?”

“Across the street from the hot dog stand you requested. Tell me though, is the hot dog made from actual canine?”

“Shit, in this part of town they might be. That’s why we’re gonna play it safe and get the vegan ones. Come on,” she grabbed the Angel by the arm and led him to the street curb. Castiel continued towards the restaurant unheeding of oncoming traffic, River yanked him backwards at the last moment and they were rewarded with the angry blare of a horn as an expensive SUV sped by. “God damn it, Cas , you can’t just walk through traffic!” she yelled at the angel. “You freaking labradoodle.” Castiel bowed his head, staring at his shoes looking remarkably like a scolded puppy.

“I’m sorry. I have only inhabited this vessel for a short time and this corporeal form is difficult to get used to. I,” he cleared his throat nervously, “I have not taken the time to learn from my vessel the correct human responses to certain situations.”

River shook her head and smiled, “Rule one: look both ways before crossing the street.” She modeled the behavior and looked expectantly at the trench coated angel. He followed her example and they continued to dinner. 

Across the country Adam Milligan learned that every monster from every scary movie or nightmare was real and his father and half-brothers were some of the few that fought and died to protect the innocent. 

“This is strange. There are so many flavors and molecules. I’m sorry I don’t think I can finish this,” Castiel grimaced and set the remainder of his chili dog down. 

River shrugged and ate the last bite of her own chili dog, washing it down with a sip of beer. “So Cas, did you get like a medal of valor or something for rescuing Dean from the pit?”

A smile tugged at the corners of the angels lips, “Not exactly. I have a tendency to interpret orders…differently than other Seraphs.”

“How so, Cas?” River asked, her eyes flashed mischievously.

“The order came down through the ranks that Dean Winchester was to be rescued from Hell. My battalion was to lead the charge as soon as we were given the attack order. I however, interpreted the order to rescue Dean to be carried out immediately. So I took my four most trusted lieutenants and laid siege. By the time my commanders realized what I had started I was too far beyond enemy lines to be withdrawn.” 

“Well, look at you a little rebel angel. Did you get reprimanded?”

“Yes. And it will probably be a few thousand years before I am eligible for another promotion.” Castiel smiled again causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle before his gaze shifted away from River. “We need to meet Haniel he will instruct you on breaking the warding.” Castiel reached across the table and grabbed her wrist, before she had time to protest she felt a sudden rush of warmth and a tugging sensation on her brainstem. The rest of her body followed her nervous system a nanosecond later and she stumbled again when Castiel landed, he was ready this time and caught her before she fell.

“Castiel, this is not Dean Winchester.” Haniel’s vessel was a middle aged man, a hair over five feet tall and a body that suggested he spent most of his human days stagnant behind a desk.

“You must be Haniel. You’re pretty quick on the draw.” River quipped, glancing quickly at the mirage of short dark purple wings that Haniel had tucked close to his body.

“Haniel is an espionage specialist. He tracked Adhira, Lilith’s third battalion commander from Cairo to the building across the street. She was sent here on Lilith’s orders; we believe the seal she is trying to break is a Hellgate. There could be thousands of demons on the other side waiting to get out,” Castiel informed her.

River smiled nervously, “Well, that sounds terrifying. How many demons are already in there?” She walked to the window and looked across at the seemingly abandoned, half finished “Golden Springs Retirement Resort Condos”. She could see two people standing guard at the front entrance.

“At least twenty. The building is covered inside and out in Angel warding. We need you to break the warding so Castiel can enter. Here are the points of access and sigils that are required,” Haniel pointed to a map of the building and handed River a slip of parchment with Enochian Sigils.

“I thought you said there was a battalion of angels here? ” River asked turning towards Castiel.

“They were sent to Mexico City this morning.” Haniel answered. 

Castiel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “I was told this mission was of the utmost importance.”

“It was, until I gained intelligence of a plot in Mexico City. If the seal there is broken then Mictlantecuhtli will rise. Castiel, our forces are spread thin as it is. Choices must be made for the greater good.”

“Awesome. What about the four million people that live in this fucking city? What’s going to happen to them if thousands of demons are let loose?” River ran her hands through her hair, piling it quickly into a knot on top of her head. “So it’s you, me and Danny DeVito here against ‘at least’ twenty demons?”

“No. My job is done. I’ve given you the sigils and the map. I have to meet the battalion in Mexico.” With that Haniel disappeared leaving River and Cas alone. She shook her head in disgust, muttering “Fucking angels”.

 

“Is this a trap Castiel?” River asked turning to face the trench coated angel. “Look, I know about Uriel. He betrayed you. Dean was supposed to come with you, he isn’t here, your backup isn’t here. How do we know Adhira is even in there?”

He remained silent for a moment, considering the possibility of another betrayal. “The men guarding the doors are demons. I can see their faces from here. The building is warded and I trust Haniel. What choice do we have? If we do nothing and Adhira opens the Hellgate…”

“How much time do we have?”

“A day or two at most according to Haniel’s intel.” Castiel said glancing at the notes the other angel had left behind. River let out along breath grabbing her phone out of her back pocket.

“Who are you calling?” Castiel asked. 

“I’m calling to say goodbye to Dean in case I fucking die again,” she told him holding the phone to her ear and waiting for him to answer. “Hey hot stuff, how goes it?”

“You know, same old: breaking in to cemeteries, trying not to get eaten by monsters,” Dean drawled as he shone his flashlight around a crypt. Several stone markers lay broken on the ground at his feet. “How ‘bout you? Ganked any demons yet?”

“No. We’re heading in soon. Just wanted to check in,” she looked back out the window as fat rain drops began pelting the glass. “It’s raining here. I love the rain. Dean I-“

“Hey, princess I think I got something here. I’ll call you back later ok?” He didn’t wait for her answer before disconnecting the call.

“You ever been in love with anyone Cas?” River asked.

Castiel shook his head. The conversation was quickly making him nervous. He had been rightfully worried to take River on this mission, not because he felt she was incapable but she was far more stubborn and headstrong than Dean and she was a woman. And women made the millennia old seraphim nervous; ever since Eve had joined Adam in the Garden he had been both confused and intrigued by the fairer sex.

“It fucks you up. Makes it so you can’t see straight, can’t think straight…Maybe it’s just this life. Our expiration date comes a lot sooner than normal people and a lot bloodier. You find something and you just want to hang on to it,” she said quietly, watching lightening streak across the sky. “I love him so fucking much, I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want him…Dean cheated on me a couple months ago.” She added suddenly.

“I know. He had sexual intercourse with Ana. Uriel told me,” Castiel as he stood next to her and watched the rain.

“He said he was sorry. That He loves me. Even if he means it with his whole heart what kind of life could we ever have? I can’t have kids. I can’t go through that again, I can’t put them at risk. Can’t settle down, every monster with a grudge would come after us. If he somehow stops the apocalypse, one or both of us is still gonna die bleeding out or torn apart… Again.”

“Well, lets make sure today is not the day you bleed out and die. I don’t feel like explaining to Dean why I let his…girlfriend?” Cas raised an eyebrow, checking with her if that was the correct term. River nodded. “Why I let his girlfriend die on ‘Mickey Blue Eye’s’ watch.”

“Is that more sass, Castiel? I’m going to start calling you Sassy Cassie.”

“Please don’t,” Castiel replied seriously.

“The rain makes me melancholy,” River shook her head, trying to clear the dark thoughts, “Let’s go kill some fucking demons.” Castiel flew them to the alley behind the building. The rain soaking the angel and the hunter with in a few seconds. He watched as River climbed over a chain link fence, dropped to the opposite side and ran towards a covered doorway. She took out the demon knife, quickly sliced her palm and drew the first sigil on the doorway. Then she disappeared from Castiel’s line of sight as she circled to the East and then back to the West sides of the building repeating the process once she found a spot protected from the rain. The angel was still unable to set foot on the property while the North sigil and the warding inside the building was in place. He saw a flash of red hair as River snuck around to the front of the building where the first two sentries were stationed. 

The demons milled under the metal awning of the main entrance grumbling about being forced to stand guard outside in the rain. She crouched down and peered around the corner. She knew she could probably gank the first demon no problem but the second one might alert the others inside. River looked around quickly for a diversion and saw a large metal dumpster along the wall behind her. Smiling, she walked to the dumpster and slammed the lid open. The loud metallic bang echoed off the stone walls. “What the hell was that?” one of them muttered angrily. 

“Who gives a shit? It’s still rainin’. That bitch’s gonna keep us out here all night,” the other lamented. Castiel peered nervously through the chainlink fence, catching a glimpse of River as she kicked the dumpster creating another loud bang when the demons didn’t take the bait.

“That’s it. If that bum is back I’m gonna rip his throat out,” the first demon growled. River heard the dull, wet slaps as one of the demons left the dry protection of the awning and turned the corner. She heaved herself up to the dumpsters opening and began rooting around in it. “Hey! I ain’t gonna warn you again!” 

River dropped back down to the ground and gave the demon her best ‘caught in the act/ please don’t kill me face’. “I’m so-sorry, just looking for some cans. Do you got any spare change?” She took a cautious step towards the demon; the meat suit it wore was a scrawny, acne covered young man.

“Sweetheart, you definitely picked the wrong night to go dumpster diving.” The demon leered at her, letting his black eyes flash through as he pounced. River grabbed the demon knife from behind her back and shoved it under the mans jaw. Flashes of orange light crackled under his skin and behind his eyes before the demon and the man dropped dead at her feet. She pulled the body unceremoniously to a pile of discarded trash and wiped her hands on her jeans.

“Marco! If Adhira catches you fucking off again she’s gonna send us both back to the pit!” the second demon yelled as he turned the corner. He let a startled gurgle as River plunged the knife into his heart, his face contorting into a snarl before he died. She drug his body next to his dead companion then ran to the front door. Squeezing her tender palm for fresh drops of blood she quickly scrawled the North Sigil on the door. Cas cautiously peeked around the chain link fence at her.

“Outside is done. I’m going in. You’ll be able to tell when the warding is down?” River asked shivering in the cold rain.

“Yes. Be careful,” the angel told her.

“If the city doesn’t get burned to a crisp we should go to Disneyland. I think you’d get a kick out of the Dumbo ride,” she said smiling. She gave him a sarcastic salute then disappeared into the building. The entrance hall was dark and abandoned, plastic tarps and discarded construction materials lay in haphazard piles. The building reeked of wet rot, rat droppings and sulfur. River pulled out a map of building out of her jacket pocket and checked her location, she needed to draw three more sigils inside the dank building. She quickly found the correct positions for the first two sigils and was headed down an long corridor to the spot marked on the map when a bone chilling growl echoed behind her. 

***  
“Are you sure we should do this?” Sam asked quietly. He watched as Dean built the funeral pyre, gathering the branches by the armload and carefully stacking them the way Bobby had showed him so many years prior. Dean ground his jaw, snapping the last few branches over his knee and throwing them on top of the pile before turning away from his younger brother. He marched stiffly to the back of his car and carefully removed the sheet covered body of their half brother Adam.

Adam had been murdered by ghouls. He was dead before Sam and Dean ever even learned of his existence. He and his mother viciously murdered by the offspring of a monster their father had killed twenty years before. The ‘Adam’ that had contacted them had obtained the real Adam’s memories when it had eaten his flesh, it and its sibling quickly orchestrating a plan to get the Winchesters to come to them to extract their twisted vengeance . But they had fatally underestimated the brothers; Dean killed the monsters and finished the case their father had started two decades ago.

“The ghouls didn’t fake those photos,” Dean said gently laying Adam next to the body of his mother, “They didn’t fake the pages in dad’s journal. He was our brother. He died like a hunter he deserves to go out like one.”

Sam nodded, “Maybe we can call in a favor. Cas? Maybe he can bring him back?”

“No,” Dean shook his head quickly, squeezing a can of lighter fluid onto the pyre, “He’s in a better place. He deserves peace.” He struck a match and tossed it into the waiting kindling. The fire caught immediately, the brilliant oranges and yellows of the flame dazzling in the pitch black night. Dean pulled their trusty green cooler from the backseat and set it in front of the car, pulling out a beer for him and his brother. They sat in silence for several minutes, watching as the body of their younger brother was rendered to ash. “Shit, I told River I’d call her back.” Dean said tiredly, rubbing his hand over his face. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and cursed again when he realized he had let the battery die.

***

Another snarl, low and deadly issued from a spot to her left or maybe her right. River held the demon knife in front of her, the stench of sulfur and offal was cloying, making her gag. She quickly backed up a few more paces, hearing a faint growl behind her. Tears stung her eyes, either from fear or the smell radiating off the hellhounds. River turned on her heel and bolted down another long hallway, hearing the invisible dogs give chase, the snapping of their invisible jaws as they closed in. She stumbled on a loose board, screaming as she lost her balance. She turned on her back and wildly swung the knife in front of her, scrambling backwards trying to find purchase on the slick floor. A set of razor sharp teeth sunk into her left calf and she let a throat tearing scream, kicking her right leg out and making contact with a solid mass. The devil dog let out a angry growl and adjusted its grip on her leg. A warm, putrid breath blew over her face as the second hellhound moved in for the kill. Before the hound mauled her a high pitched whistle echoed off the cement walls, she sensed the demon dog nearest her head lope away. The hellhound attached to her leg pulled her back out of the room dragging her like an oversized squeaky toy towards the source of the whistle . River grabbed at every corner, every piece of detritus that littered the hallways, each time she hampered the monster dog on it’s return to it’s master it sunk its teeth in a little further.

“Good girls! Good girls, what did you bring mommy?” a tittering voice cooed at the invisible hellhounds. River felt the hellhound release her ruined calf and she sat up unsteadily wrapping her hands around the gaping holes where her muscles used to be, trying to staunch the bleeding. She still gripped the demon knife in one hand and quickly surveyed the room she was no doubt going to die in. A dozen or more demons stood in a semicircle surrounding a short, pink haired girl no older than seventeen. 

“You must be Adhira. I was expecting more Maleficent and less Regina George,” River said through gritted teeth.

“You must be…you know what? I don’t care what your name is. Tie her up we can use her for the sacrifice,” Adhira said dismissively turning her back on River. Two demons stalked towards River their black eyes shining with malice. “I’d love to stay, really. Seems like a great thing you got going here but I got plans. Gonna take a buddy to Disneyland. I am pining for some Dole Whip. Any of you assholes ever had Dole Whip?,” River stalled. “No. Well, fuck you anyways. Anytime’d be great, Cas!” she yelled, swiping her bloody hand in the last curving swirl of the Enochian sigil.

“I’m here, River.” Castiel appeared before her brandishing his Angel blade.

“Kill them,” Adhira waived a hand as if bored by the sudden development. The demons swarmed towards the trench coated Seraphim and River. Castiel was quickly lost beneath a pile of snarling demons. 

“Cas!” River screamed struggling to her feet. She limped painfully towards the sea of fighting bodies and grabbed the nearest one, shoving the demon blade into the base of its neck. The ground under her feet began vibrating and River grabbed at the next nearest demon for balance. Her first thought was that it was an earthquake, one of those slow rolling earth shakers that come in waves, knocking down grocery shelves and setting off car alarms. She looked into the eyes of the demon she still clung to and saw thats its face was contorted into pure fear. Before she had time to consider why the demon would be so terrified a blinding white light erupted from the beneath the struggling pile of bodies. The demons and River were thrown in every direction by the force behind the light. River slammed into a concrete pillar and sat dazed at the bottom, shielding her eyes from the blazing light. The light dimmed enough and she was able to see Castiel standing in a circle of charred bodies. His huge obsidian wings outstretched to their full length, the tips brushing either end of the room. His eyes blazed with a fierce ice blue light as he turned on the remaining demons. She stared in awe as mild mannered Castiel was transformed into a heavenly warrior smiting demons with his bare hands. His great wings flaring out and snapping at any demon that tried to run, his grace entangling them and dragging them screaming back towards holy death.

He flapped his wings one last time and folded them tightly against his back. Castiel surveyed the dead demons and met Rivers wide, shocked eyes. She still feebly grasped the demon knife close to her body and trembled.“Holy shit, Cas…that was fucking intense.” 

 

“Where is Adhira?” he asked pulling River to her feet. He quickly touched her forehead and the wounds in her calf disappeared.

“I-I don’t know where she went.” River said. A high pitched whistle echoed across the cement walls and the angel and hunter turned to face the pink haired demon lieutenant. Growls and snarls erupted around them. “She has hellhounds,” she whispered, eyes darting around the room trying to see the invisible beasts.

“Yes, I can see them,” Castiel said tightly.

“I can’t.” River told him.

“It’s better that way,” he said gravely. 

Adhira and her hounds attacked. The cold, cement room echoed again with the sounds of fighting. The wet snapping of jaws as the hellhounds jumped at Cas’s great wings, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh as the demon and angel struggled in the middle of the great room. River willed her thundering heart to be quiet so she could try and hear where the demon dogs were, willed her eyes to see even the slightest shift in light or dust that would indicate where the first one would pounce. She turned a half second to late and again felt the razor sharp teeth nip at the flesh of her exposed leg. She screamed and brought the demon blade down in a wide arch towards the pain. The hellhound let go of her leg with a high pitched ‘yip’ and she heard claws skitter away across the floor.

River had time to take in one shaky breath before she was slammed to the floor by huge invisible paws. She plunged the demon knife blindly upwards and tried rolling away from the oppressive growling weight on top of her. Jaws snapped at her kicking legs and the screams escaped her throat before her brain fully realized what was happening to her body. Castiel turned towards River’s high pitched wail and saw her struggling to pull herself away from three hellhounds. His wavering attention gave Adhira the only advantage she needed and she rounded on Castiel plunging a dagger into the space beneath his left wing. He grunted in pain and fell heavily to his kneed as River screamed again, this time calling out for him. “Cas! Cas help me, please!”


	27. Chapter 27

Ch 27

“God damn it, babe! I’ve called you thirty fucking times. Call me back now!” Dean had been getting progressively more angry and withdrawn as the hours passed after Adam’s funeral. He and Sam had sped out of Minnesota and stopped at a cheap motel on the border of South Dakota. Dean took another long chug from the bottle of whiskey sitting half full on the night stand and grimaced as it burned it’s way down his throat. Sam glanced up from his lap top and frowned at his older brother. “Fuck this. I’m going out,” Dean muttered swaying slightly as he stood and shrugged into his leather jacket, “You comin’ ?” 

“No, Dean’s it’s 1:00 am and this is a dry county, remember?” Sam sighed, “ I’ll check the car and see if we have anything else to drink.” He got up from the table and grabbed the Impala’s keys. He was going to have to hide them from Dean. He knew his older brother and if he could keep him distracted for another half hour he’d eventually pass out.

Dean cursed and sat heavily on the bed. “Fucking hate dry counties. It’s un-American,” he grumbled taking another drink. Sam returned with the green cooler from the backseat and handed Dean a bottle of his favorite beer. Dean twisted the bottle open and downed it in one go. “Man, I could go for some pie,” Dean murmured quietly, his head slowly tilting backwards on his neck, eyes fluttering heavily. The empty beer bottle rolled gently to the floor and Dean slumped unconscious back onto the bed.

“Finally,” Sam thought as he pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to Ruby. He drummed his fingers impatiently waiting for her reply and anxiously watching his brother sleep. His phone vibrated five minutes later and he almost knocked his chair over in his rush towards the motel room door. The Impala growled to life and Sam sped towards the address Ruby had provided.

Dean woke sometime late the next morning. His head pounding with a hangover and stomach growling from hunger. He smacked his dry lips and scratched the stubble on his cheeks glancing around the empty room. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered noting his brothers bed completely made and not slept in. He stood and stretched his stiff muscles as he walked towards the window facing the parking lot. He pushed the thick curtains aside and scanned the parking lot, his pride and joy was glaringly absent from her parking spot and Dean cursed again. He stomped back to his bed and grabbed his phone off the night stand. He had just thumbed his brothers number when he heard the rumble of his car pull up outside. Sam entered the room a moment later balancing three huge cups of coffee and a bag of food.

“Hey, figured you’d need some caffeine and grub.” Sam said setting everything down on the small formica table. 

“Where the hell were you?” Dean asked annoyed pulling the lid off his steaming coffee.

“I went to get food. Obviously,” Sam answered rolling his eyes.

Dean let out a long breath through his nose, his lips pressed into a thin line, “Where were you last night? Your bed is made.”

Sam smiled and shook his head, “I got up early. Went for a run. Made my bed like a grown up and went to get you breakfast because you’re a real bitch when you have a hangover.”

“You’re a bitch,” Dean muttered digging through the bag of food and pulling out a foil wrapped surprise. A flutter of wings interrupted the brothers bickering as Castiel appeared in the center of their room. The Angel grunted and fell to his knees holding River’s pale, unmoving form in his arms. Dean dropped his breakfast and rushed forward. “Riv, baby? Cas? What the fuck?” Dean scooped River out of Cas’s arms and laid her gently on the floor. His eyes couldn’t decide where to focus first, her blood streaked face, the red ragged wounds in her arm and shoulder, or the long furrows down her abdomen. Her breaths were coming in shallow little puffs and she made no indication she was conscious. “Cas! What the fuck?” Dean screamed again. The Seraphim took a painful breath and touched River’s forehead with his index and middle fingers. The blood and wounds disappeared but River remained unconscious. Dean opened his mouth to yell again but froze when Castiel's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped sideways to the floor joining River in unconsciousness. 

“He’s wounded,” Sam said kneeling besides Cas. The back of the Angels trench coat was stained in dried blood. Sam worked the coat off the unconscious angel, the demon knife and Cas’s angel blade fell from within the folds of the khaki fabric onto the floor, and he saw a hole in the back of the once white dress shirt under Castiel’s left shoulder blade. Blood oozed from the knife wound and a faint blue light emanated from within it. “Dean, I need the first aid kit,” Sam told his brother pulling the flaccid form of Cas up and trying to gently remove his shirt.

“River, come on baby. Wake up.” If Dean had heard Sam he made no indication of it. He wiped River’s dirty hair out of her face and patted her cheeks gently.

“Dean! I need help with Cas!” Sam yelled. Dean’s green eyes flared and he glared at his younger brother. “Cas healed her, she’ll wake up eventually or she won’t. And she definitely won’t if he dies, now help me!” Dean cast one last look at River then pulled himself to his feet.

“Let’s get him on the bed. I’ll stitch him up,” Dean said instantly shifting back to hunter-mode. The brothers gingerly picked up the unconscious angel, his trench coat and loose suit hiding a solid muscular body. “Jeez, Cas you get a lot of down time at the gym or something.” Dean muttered as they laid him on his stomach on Sam’s unused bed. Dean quickly got to work closing the bleeding wound in his back. Neither brother knew if that would do anything to help the Angel, they were running off instinct and decades of training; bleeding needed to be stopped, wounds needed to be closed.

Sam went back to River where she still lay breathing shallowly on the floor. Sam picked her up, cradling her close to his chest one arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees . He straightened back up and started towards Dean’s bed when Rivers blue eyes snapped open. “No! NO! NO NO NO! God, CAS! CAS!,” she screamed struggling like a feral cat caught in a trap, “Help me! God, they’re eating me! CAS they’re eating me!” She punched and kicked at Sam, dragging her fingernails along his neck. 

“Shit. Fuck. River stop it!” Sam swung his head away from her, struggling not to drop her back onto the floor. “Dean, a little help!” he made it to the bed and dropped her onto the soft mattress. She continued screaming for Castiel and lashing out at Sam.

Dean grunted and continued stitching Cas’s back, “Dude you probably weigh twice as much as her, I think you can take her.” Sam instantly shifted to bitchface and tried again unsuccessfully to dodge River’s attack. She landed a solid blow to his jaw and he cursed in response. 

“God damn it,” he muttered. He finally grabbed both her wrists in one of his big hands and pinned them above her head. “River!” he shouted in her face. Her blue eyes remained unfocused and glazed, she screamed at some unseen thing next to her left shoulder and almost ripped her wrists free from Sam’s grip. He reached his other massive hand back and smacked River swiftly across the cheek. She stopped screaming and blinked slowly, focusing on Sam’s worried hazel eyes boring down on her.

“Ow! You big dumb jerk face what the hell was that for?” she tried to rub her stinging cheek but Sam still had her hands trapped above her head. “Sam, let me the fuck go right now or so help my I will knee you in the nuts so hard you’ll choke on ‘em.” As if to emphasize her threat River bent her knee and pushed it into Sam’s thigh. The giant hunter released her wrists and jumped back. “Your hair looks marvelous from this angle by the way,” she quipped gently prodding her tender face. “How the fuck- Cas!” she sat up still dazed and saw the angel sprawled on the bed next to her. Dean having finished stitching up the stab wound in Cas’s back was applying a clean dressing. She cursed to herself as she gently ran her fingers through Cas’s dark auburn hair and along his face, “What happened? How’d we get here?” she asked both brothers. 

“How the hell should we know? Cas popped in about an hour ago carrying you. You were a bloody fucking mess, he healed you and passed out,” Dean told her, wiping his bloody hands on a motel towel. “Who stabbed him? What the hell happened to you?”

“Adhira, the demon he was supposed to capture. She must’ve had an angel blade or something…” River glanced at Dean. “There was supposed to be a hell gate. It was just me and him and about two dozen demons. Smitey McSmiterson here took them all. I’ve never seen anything like it. He was fucking amazing, it was beautiful.” She whispered blinking back tears. “That demon bitch had hell hounds…I couldn’t see them. I couldn’t fight…” Dean’s jaw tightened at the mention of hell hounds. “They were…god their teeth were so sharp; I couldn’t see them, baby.”

“Of course you couldn’t.”

“…I screamed I distracted him. One of them took a chunk out of my shoulder I could hear it chewing… He can’t fucking die because of me.” Dean cursed under his breath and met his brothers eyes before pulling River into a tight hug.

“He’ll wake up. We just need to give him time,” Dean murmured into her hair. “Go take a shower, sweetheart. I’ll watch him.” River sniffed and nodded pulling away from Dean.

She headed towards the bathroom and stopped turning back towards Sam, “Can you check the news? See if there was some major catastrophe in LA?” 

Sam nodded at her, “Yeah I’ll check.” The shower started a moment later and the brothers shared another silent look before Sam turned on his laptop and Dean flipped on the TV to check the national news. Castiel remained silent and unmoving, laying on his stomach on the opposite bed where Dean had left him. The elder Winchester glanced at the angel and watched the shallow rise and fall of his back; the only indication he was breathing. River came out of the bathroom a while later, running a towel through her long damp hair and wearing one of Dean’s old Stones t-shirts and a pair of sleep shorts.

“Any word on California?” she asked sitting on the bed next to Dean. 

“4.7 earthquake near a place called ‘Silver Lake’. Nothin’ else.” He answered taking a long pull from a half full bottle of whiskey. 

“ That was him.” River nodded at Cas and looked at the bedside clock it was barely noon, she was exhausted and Dean was half drunk. “Where’s Sam?”

“Got his own room,” Dean said waggling his eyebrows at her. “Wanna fool around?” 

“With an angel of the Lord laying not five feet from us? No.” 

Dean shrugged and took another drink, “He might like the show.” River threw her towel at him and checked Cas’s pulse, it was going too fast to count. 

She shook her head, “I don’t know fuck about angels or their vessels. I thought he’d wake up by now.” She met Dean’s red rimmed eyes and noticed the way his fingers nervously twitched around his bottle of whiskey. She took the bottle out of his hand and set it on the nightstand. “What happened?”

Dean took a shaky breath and pressed his palms into his eyes tiredly, “Adam’s dead.”

River cursed quietly and moved back to Dean’s bed, gently pulling his hands down away from his face and holding them in her own. “How?”

“Ghouls.”

“Ghouls? I thought they only eat dead things?”

“Yeah, well those two decided to start noshing on living flesh. Dad killed their father or something; so they killed Adam and his mom to get to dad. Except they got us instead…”

“Adam was already dead then. That was one them that called us,” River said. Dean nodded. “Dean, I’m so sorry.”

Dean shook his head and worked his jaw back and forth, “I should’ve known.”

“Known what? Known about Adam? Yeah, John should’ve let you and Sam know you had a brother. Known it was a ghoul? How? You did what you could.”

“Don’t patronize me,” he muttered angrily reaching for his bottle of liquor

“Fuck you Winchester. Don’t be a fucking martyr,” she replied grabbing the whiskey first. “You’ve had enough.” She got up from the bed and took the liquor bottle with her walking across the room towards the chipped formica table. 

Dean was on her in an instant, strong hands gripping her hips and hot breath on her neck, “If you’re not gonna let me drink then you’re gonna let me fuck you on this table.” He shoved one hand down the front of her shorts and her knees almost buckled when he went to work on her clit. She moaned his name, holding on to one of his huge forearms for balance.

“Dean, wait wait Cas…Cas could wake up any…ooh…he might need help,” River whispered, her body quickly losing the battle against Dean’s ministrations. He knew her body, knew where to touch and kiss and bite to make her brain short circuit. She knew Dean’s two coping mechanisms were alcohol and sex and he needed at least one of them now. The weight of everything, Adam, Sam and his secrets, River and hers, the Angels and their expectations was getting to be suffocating. It felt like it had been weeks since they’d had any real time alone and they still weren’t fucking alone now with Cas obstinately refusing to wake up.

“If Cas wakes up he can join in for all I care.” Dean reached between them and unzipped his fly groaning at the release. 

“Quit talking shit, Winchester.” She murmured. 

“I’m not talking shit. It could be fun. Me, you, an Angel. We should ask him when he wakes up.”

“Ask me what?” Castiel’s confused voice echoed behind them. River let out a startled laugh and clamped her hand over her mouth as Dean cursed angrily and zipped his pants back up. River readjusted her shorts and turned around to face the angel. His signature white shirt, blue tie and trench coat were back in situ. His dark auburn hair was still disheveled and he tucked his angel blade back into the folds of his jacket.

“Ask you why you healed me instead of yourself. You could’ve died. What were you thinking?” River told him angrily.

“I told you I would get you back safe.”

“Rule fucking three, Castiel: You don’t die for me. Got it?” Cas nodded once. “What the hell happened?” River asked. 

“Adhira stabbed me,” he answered seriously.

River let out a long breath and looked sideways at Dean, “Yeah Cas. I figured as much. I mean with the fucking hell gate…was there even one there or were we fucking set up?”

“I…I don’t know for sure.” Castiel shuffled his feet.

“Bullshit, angel. Either there was a fucking hellgate or there wasn’t and your buddy Haniel and your superiors set us up.” 

Castiel took a deep breath, “I need to return to heaven and find answers. If Haniel betrayed me I will deal with him myself.”

“Cas if they tried to kill you, you can’t trust any of them.” Dean told him.

“Just stay with us,” River reached towards him, “We’ll figure something out.” 

“No. I’ll be in touch,” with a final nod he disappeared. 

“Fuck!” River stomped her foot, “He’s gonna get himself fucking killed.”

“He’ll be fine. Come to bed unless… you want me to fuck you on the table. It looks kind of wobbly though,” he dragged his thumb along his lower lip and his green eyes shone mischievously. “Won’t be as fun without Cas here…” 

“Shut up.” River laughed and punched him in the shoulder. “The table doesn’t look that wobbly,” she said sliding herself onto it. Dean sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and pulled his shirt off.

Sam sat on his bed in the room next door, mindlessly checking emails and news stories when he heard a loud crash from his brothers room. He jumped off the bed and was reaching for his gun when he heard Dean yell “Son of a bitch!” and River’s muffled laughter.


	28. Chapter 28

Ch 28

The lake was beautiful. Dean had followed the winding two lane highway for almost an hour up the mountain and was rewarded with perfect weather and an empty beach. He sat on the weather worn deck in his favorite fishing chair, fishing rod grasped loosely in one hand and a beer in the other. He looked down and watched as River walked quietly along the shoreline, her two piece bathing suit hugging every curve just right leaving little to his imagination. The fishing line twitched and he sat forward setting his beer down. “Hello, Dean.” Castiel’s gravelly voice shattered the stillness of the lake. 

“What are you doing here?” Dean asked looking over his shoulder at the angel. The clouds shifted and the sky suddenly darkened. “I’m dreaming aren’t I?”

Castiel nodded, “It’s not safe here. Someone could be listening.” The angel looked tired, his eyes worried and darting around the serene landscape.

“You’re in my head, Cas.”

“Exactly. I need you to meet me somewhere more private,” Castiel handed Dean a piece of paper. Dean read the address, committing it to memory.

“Hey man, where the hell have you been? River and me have been trying to reach you. Have you been reading the news lately because it seems like shit is hitting the fan all over the world.”

“Go. Now. We need to talk in person.” 

Dean’s eyes shot open. He was in bed next to River, his arms and legs tangled over her, his face pressed into her warm neck where she always smelled faintly like oranges and vanilla. His eyes swept over the room, Sam’s giant body lay sprawled haphazardly on the bed next to them. They’d only stopped at this motel because the weather had been a nightmare, rain falling so heavily Dean had almost spun out twice on the dark highway after the latest salt and burn. 

They had been bickering incessantly for weeks; living out of the Impala and rushing between cases Bobby had been sending them on. They were strapped for cash and hadn’t had time to even hustle pool. The lack of funds and seemingly never-ending parade of ghouls, ghosts and demons that needed to be put down had also meant he and River hadn’t had any time alone. Their conversations were clipped, each annoyed at the other from some reason or another. They couldn’t afford two rooms and food so they were stuck together again in this tiny, dumpy motel room for the night.

Dean groggily remembered earlier in the night when he had tried to get River alone in the bathroom for a quickie and Sam had finally lost it. He yelled at both of them for being so ‘fucking inconsiderate and open about their sexual escapades’. The hunters had gotten used to having little to no privacy; the three seeing each other half naked on a pretty frequent basis due to wounds or injuries post hunts; fucking in the bathroom with Sam on the other side of the door seemed like a totally normal occurrence. River’s face had turned bright red as she mumbled apologies like an admonished teenager. She had showered quickly and jumped under the thin blanket of the bed she shared with Dean, giving him a chaste kiss and falling asleep within a few minutes. Dean shifted in the bed, closed his eyes and pulled River impossibly closer to him groaning in frustration at his cock-blocking prissy ass baby brother. What god would he have to make a blood sacrifice to for a fucking vacation? “Maybe go fishing up at that lake in Montana…” he thought to himself, drifting back to sleep. “Shit! “ he sprang up in bed causing River to wake next to him, she had her gun in hand and was half way out of the bed before he hooked his arm back around her waist.

“What the hell?” she muttered tiredly glaring back at him. Sam snored loudly next to them oblivious to Dean’s outburst. 

“I saw Cas in my dream. He wants to meet somewhere…” Dean told her quickly typing the address Cas had given him into his phone. 

“Where the hell has he been? He hasn’t answered your prayers. He won’t come for my summonings. He’s left us high and dry for weeks. Stupid angelic douche,” she yawned loudly and stretched. The rainstorm had let up while they slept and the hunters were able to get back on the road as soon as they dressed. 

The trio arrived at an old meat packing plant a few hours later. The long cold hallways covered in a layer of dust and grime. Strangely, lights still flickered here and there and a faint smell of ozone hung in the air. “You saw Cas in a dream? What did he want?” Sam asked as they crept down another dank passageway. They had all seen and lived enough horror stories to know poking around a building like this almost always ended in being chased by a psycho with a chainsaw.

“If I knew what he wanted would we be Scooby-Doo-ing our way through this shit hole?” Dean retorted. River walked a few paces ahead of them, quickly scanning each room for signs of the Angel.

“Where the hell is he?” she hissed after finding another empty room.

“He’s here or will be soon. Relax.” Dean muttered.

“Relax? Cas has been MIA for almost three weeks. Nada, zilch from any other winged asshole and now he comes to you in a dream and says your fucking head isn’t safe enough to talk,” she started, “He’s in trouble, Dean.”

“I know that.”

“He’s our friend, or as close to a friend that we get. And being friends with the three of us never fucking ends well…” she stormed off, the familiar cold sweat and palpitating sensations in her chest signaling she was about two minutes from a panic attack. River, Dean and Sam reached a dead end with no way to go but up a flight of rickety metallic stairs. The trio ascended into a war zone. Light fixtures hung as if torn from the ceiling, metal scaffolding lay in twisted heaps, chunks of plaster and cement were thrown scattered around the open room. They glanced worriedly around as they trekked further into the smoking wreckage.

“It looks like a bomb went off,” Sam muttered. 

River swept her flashlight between pieces of crushed machinery as Dean followed behind her with his own light. “There was a fight here,” he said quietly.

“Yeah but between who?” River asked stepping carefully under what used to be another staircase. Her flashlight arced high up on the cement wall and illuminated some sort of graffiti. “D, Sam check this out.” She stood in front of the cement wall and waited for the brothers to join her. “Look familiar?” High up on the wall, written in blood was a banishing sigil.

“Yeah, it looks like the one Ana used to send the Angels back to the Outfield,” Dean said. 

Rivers jaw tightened at the mention of the other angel and she turned away from the wall, “What if he was ambushed waiting for us?” She swung her flashlight in front of her and saw a pair of dark loafers sticking out from under a pile of debris. She hurried forward and saw the man attached to the sensible shoes. “Cas? Castiel! Guys over here!” River yelled over her shoulder as she leaned down over the Angel and tried shaking him awake. “Cas!” The brothers joined her just as the Angel stirred awake. He pulled out of River’s grip and struggled to stand up.

“What’s going on?” he mumbled half to himself. 

Dean and Sam each grabbed an arm and helped Castiel stand. “Hey man, relax. It’s all good.” Dean told him trying to straighten his tie and jacket. Castiel wrenched himself away from the Winchesters and took a wide step back.

“Get the hell away from me!” he yelled stumbling on a loose floor board and almost falling again.

“Castiel are you ok?” River asked. “Where the hell are your wings?”

Cas ran his hands through his hair and down the sides of his face in a very Dean like gesture. “Castiel? I’m not Castiel…”

“What?” Dean asked taking a step closer.

“It’s me,” the other man said turning back towards the hunters.

“Me who?” Sam asked.

“Jimmy. My name is Jimmy,” the man said smiling slightly. 

“Where the hell is Cas?” River demanded staring at the stranger.

“I don’t know,” the mans voice was noticeably softer than Castiel’s deep rumble. The Angel always sounded to River as if his true voice was constantly fighting with the constraints of his human vessel. “He’s gone.”

 

“We are so screwed,” River muttered angrily.

“Do you know who we are?” Dean asked the man.

“I…know that I know you somehow.”

“We’re friends of Cas. I’m Dean, this is my brother Sam and my girlfriend River.” 

“Lets get the hell outta here. Come on, Jimmy.” She hooked her arm around Jimmy’s and led him through the wreckage. Jimmy followed her and the Winchesters out of the abandoned plant and back to the waiting Impala. The drive had been mostly silent and very awkward. Jimmy breaking the silence only to request they stop and get him something to eat. Dean agreed they all needed to eat and found a 24 hour drive through while Sam checked for local motels. River sat quietly in the backseat staring at Jimmy who was so human it hurt. The trench coated angel had been annoying, clueless and at times heartless but he was still their ally. They owed him a debt they had not come close to repaying and probably never would; Castiel having risked everything to rescue Dean from Hell, healing him against orders after Alastair’s brutal attack, and healing her after the fiasco with Adhira. Jimmy glanced nervously at River and she looked into his cobalt eyes now devoid of the faint light that was always there when she looked at Cas. She let out a long frustrated breath and met Dean’s eyes in the rear view mirror before turning her attention to the dark highway they barreled down.

“Would you slow down. You’re gonna give me angina,” Dean said disgustedly as Jimmy took another ravenous bite of his second bacon double cheeseburger. 

“Mmm-sorry I’m starving,” Jimmy told him slurping loudly from his huge styrofoam cup of soda. 

“When was the last time you ate?” Sam asked him laughing at his brothers reaction.

“I don’t know…months?”

“Cas had half a chili dog and some onion rings when we were in LA,” River mumbled stabbing a french fry into the congealed lump of ketchup in front of her. “We were gonna go to Disneyland, ride Dumbo, get pineapple soft serve but…you know demons. You remember any of that Jimmy?”

“Nope. I really don’t remember much of anything. I could see flashes occasionally but it feels like I’ve been stuck in some trippy dream. Having an angel inside you is like being chained to a comet,” he took another bite of cheeseburger and he reached over to River’s french fries grabbing a handful, “These are great.” She wordlessly slid the rest of her uneaten meal towards him and leaned back heavily in her chair.

“Jimmy, Cas said he needed to tell us something. Do you remember what that might be?” Sam asked delicately.

Jimmy let out a long breath and wiped the grease off his lips, “No. I’m sorry. There was a flash of light and then you guys.”

“Come on, man. What else do you know?” Dean said shaking his head.

Jimmy took another thoughtful bite of food, “I know that I am Jimmy Novak from Pontiac, Illinois and I have a family.” Jimmy told them about his wife and his young daughter, Claire. That he had been devout in his faith to God and remembered the first night Castiel tried to contact him. “My wife found me on the floor the next morning. I must’ve had some sort of fit…his voice was so loud in my head.”

“You heard his true voice?” River asked sitting forward.

“Yes but not-not at first. At first it was like this loud buzzing. I thought my teeth were going to shatter,” another bite of food, another slurp of soda, “You asked about my- Castiel’s wings. Did I have wings?” He asked glancing back at his shoulders.

“Kind of? I don’t know how to explain it…they were there and not there…like a shadow behind Cas and the other Angels. Only certain people can see them, kind of like you hearing Cas’s true voice.”

“Do you mind if I take a shower? I can’t remember the last time I had a shower and I’m sick to death of this suit.” Jimmy asked, brushing crumbs off his blue tie.

“Yeah, go for it man. You can probably fit my stuff better than Sam’s,” Dean told him. He led Jimmy to his duffle bag and dug around for a moment before handing him a stack of clothing. Jimmy thanked Dean and then locked himself in the small bathroom and started the shower. River picked up Castiel’s trench coat and carefully folded it before stashing it in her own duffle bag.

“What the hell do we do now?” she asked the brothers.

“What do you mean what do we do?” Dean asked. “You heard him he has a family. We get the guy a bus ticket back to Pontiac.”

“Dean, I don’t think thats a good idea. This guy is the only lead we have on what Cas needed to tell us and that war zone we walked into.” Sam told him quietly. 

“River, whats your say?” Dean said turning towards her.

“I agree with Sam,” she started. Dean rolled his eyes and muttered something before sitting heavily on one of the double beds. “We need to find out what he knows. I say we take him back to Bobby’s and figure something out.”

“You heard him, he doesn’t remember anything. You think he’s lying?” Dean asked the other two.

“No, not necessarily. Maybe he just needs a push like hypnosis or a psychic like we did…before.” River chewed her lip, feeling stupid for not being able to say Ana’s name. Saying her name made it all real again. One of the only reasons she could stomach sitting and sleeping in the backseat of the Impala was trying her damnedest to pretend like Ana didn’t exist. She’d never met or seen the other two women Dean fucked behind her back so they were pretty easy to ignore. But Ana she knew, Ana she had liked, had wanted to help and just thinking about what Dean and Ana did made acid boil in her stomach. She turned her head towards the bathroom door, the shower had stopped and they could hear Jimmy whistling to himself. “Maybe Cas’ll just come back.”

“Dean, we need to get him somewhere safe. If we want to know what he knows then you know damn well the demons will want to know too,” Sam continued. “This is big. That was Angel on Angel violence back there and we can’t not afford to lose our only lead.”

Dean sighed heavily, “You remember when our job was to help people get back to their families not hide them in Bobby’s panic room?” The bathroom door opened and Jimmy came out wearing one of Dean’s grey Henley's and jeans, he had cuffed the jeans so they didn’t drag on the floor and smiled shyly at the three hunters.

“Feel better?” River asked him.

“Yes, thank you and thank you ,Dean, for the clothes,” he sat unsurely on the foot of the bed next to River. “I’d like to go home. My family-they deserve to know where I’ve been.” River tilted her head and looked into his blue eyes before meeting Dean’s.

“No, Jimmy. That’s not a good idea right now.” She told him firmly.

“What? What the hell do you mean?” Jimmy stood back up agitated running his hands through his messy hair.

“Look, man. Calm down. We just- we think you probably have a bullseye on your back.” Dean said trying to placate him.

“That’s ridiculous! Who would be after me?”

Dean glanced over his shoulder at his younger brother and back to Jimmy, “Demons.”

Jimmy shook his head and laughed. His laughter abruptly stopped as he noticed the tight faces of the three strangers staring back at him. “Demons? Come on! I’ve been shot, stabbed, healed and drug all over Earth for months. I’m done. I’m free and I want out. I want to go back to my family!”

“We want to take you back to your family. We do. But if we are right and something bad comes after you, it’s gonna come after your family too. So right now the safest place for you is with us.” 

He flapped his arms at his sides annoyed and let out a deep breath, “How long?”

“As long as it takes to make sure you and your family will be safe,” River told him. She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to keep her voice calm and even.

“No, I’m outta here. I’m going to see my wife and daughter,” Jimmy brushed passed River and headed towards the door. 

Sam lithely moved his huge frame to block the door and shook his head, “No, you’re not. You’re only going to put them in danger.”

“So what I’m a prisoner now?”

“Think of it more as an…” River smiled and shrugged her shoulders, “extended sleep over.” Jimmy cursed under his breath and flopped back down on the bed insolently. She rolled her eyes and wondered if Cas had started to pick up some of Jimmy’s attitude.

“Well, now that that’s settled. I’m goin’ on a beer run,” Dean exclaimed. River glared at him and pursed her lips. “What?” She shrugged her shoulders again and sat on the bed opposite Jimmy and turned on the TV. 

As Dean was pulling on his jacket her phone rang, “Hey Levi! How are you?…Zombies in Hanover? Holy shit dude are you ok?….Yeah. Are they still eating brains or did you put ‘em all down…Of course you did…you think it was a seal? Yeah me too.” She waived at Dean as he headed out the door. The call ended a few minutes later and she noticed Jimmy and Sam staring at her. “You ok, Jimmy?”

“Did you say zombies? Like actual zombies…”

“Yeah. That’s what my buddy Levi’s reporting. It was a seal, Sam, he’s almost positive. Another one bites the dust.” She fiddled with the charm around her neck and sent a quick text message to Gabriel. He responded almost instantly and she muttered, “Ass hat” before setting her phone down on the nightstand and turning on the ancient television across the room.

“I’m gonna get a Coke. You two want anything?” Sam asked after a few minutes of disinterested channel surfing. Jimmy and River shook their heads. “I’ll be right back.” Sam left the room, barely containing the shakiness he felt in his bones. He was jonesing bad, sweating like a junky too long since his last fix. It had been nearly impossible to meet with Ruby in the last few weeks and he needed her blood bad. Luckily they had planned for these sorts of occasions and Ruby had given him a flask of her blood to get him through the dry patches. He barely made it behind the cover of the vending machines before pulling the flask out of his inner jacket pocket. His hands shook so bad he was afraid he would spill the little blood he had left. He also knew he was so desperate right now he’d probably lick it off the cement if he had to. He carefully poured a few drops into his palm not trusting himself to drink straight out of the flask and lapped it up greedily. The tingling sensation that rushed through his nerve endings was better than any orgasm.

River glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Dean had been gone almost thirty minutes. She picked up her phone and considered calling him but set it back down; familiar insecurities and anxiety gnawing at her. “I have to pee,” she announced getting off the bed and heading for the bathroom.

“Thanks for the update,” Jimmy replied dryly behind her.

She locked herself in the bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked exhausted, hell when did she not look exhausted anymore? Her little supply of antidepressants had run out and the refills had been denied. The cloud of murky thoughts and anxiety had been kept mostly at bay by the sheer amount of hunting she and the Winchesters had been doing the last few weeks. Her eyes had dark circles under them, freckles standing out in stark contrast to the rest of her pale skin. “Would it kill you to put some fucking makeup on?” she muttered to herself. Most days she was too tired and didn’t see the point of makeup, unless she was pretending to be a Fed or something else that required dressing up. Monsters didn’t care if you were wearing makeup and nothing was more annoying then trying to dig up a grave and having drops of makeup laced sweat drip into her eyes. Dean had told her he preferred her without makeup on several occasions but she always rolled her eyes at him when he said shit like that. She turned away from the mirror to use the toilet like she had intended and heard a noise outside the door. The faint sound of something being dragged across the shag carpet then being shoved up against the door. River jumped back off the toilet pulling her jeans up with one hand and lunged for the door. The handle wouldn’t turn, someone namely Jimmy fucking Novak had shoved something under the handle on the other side of the door and trapped her inside the bathroom. “Jimmy! Jimmy! What the fuck?” she pounded on the door and tried shouldering it open to no avail. The stupid door wouldn’t budge.

“I’m sorry. Really I am. I know you guys are trying to help me but…you’re all crazy. And I miss my family,” Jimmy’s soft, gentle voice called from the other side of the door.

“God damn it!” she cursed mostly at herself. Her hands immediately went to her pockets where her phone would have been if she hadn’t left it sitting on the nightstand. “You fucking idiot, River!” She punched the door again for good measure and turned towards the tiny window above the toilet. It opened by turning a rusty old crank and even then only gave a few inches. The window itself was far too small for her to try and squeeze through even if she broke the glass out so she balanced herself on the toilet and tried yelling for Sam. She lost her balance, cracked her elbow painfully on the sink and cursed at herself again. She stretched out on the tile floor, leaning her back against the cool tile of the tub and waited for one of the Wonder boys to return. 

River had just started to doze off when she heard the door to the motel room open and someone shuffle inside. “Sammy? River?… Jimmy?” Dean’s worried voice echoed from inside the room. She hauled herself to her feet and yelled for Dean. “Hey, I’m here baby!” he called out as he shoved the dresser away from the door. He opened the door a moment later and the familiar pungent smokey scent of whiskey wafted off Dean. He wasn’t piss drunk but he was close. 

River’s hands balled into fists at her sides and she took a deep, shaky breath. “Where the hell were you!” she screamed in his face pushing him out of the doorway and back into the room. “I’ve been stuck in there for hours! A beer run! Really?”

“Where’s Jimmy?” he asked quietly holding his hands up in surrender.

“How the fuck should I know? Sam went to the vending machines, apparently they’re on the fucking moon because he isn’t back either and I had to pee! Jimmy must’ve shoved that fucking dresser in front of the door,” she wheeled towards the door as Sam walked in and made a noise in the back of her throat that sounded like a pissed off wild cat. “Where the fuck where you?” She yelled at the 6’5’’ man trying his damnedest to remain unseen.

“I just..uh…” he said lamely.

The red head flipped him off and turned back towards Dean, all previous feelings of anxiety now ignited into anger. “Where the fuck were you?” she demanded again pulling on the collar of his flannel shirt, checking his neck and shoulders. “A beer run? Where’d you go, huh? A bar. A bar with out me?” she moved her hands to his jacket pockets and started searching them.

“What the hell, River? What are you doing?” Dean said pulling himself away from her. 

“You know exactly what I’m doing. I swear to Freya if you fucked around on me again I am gone Dean Winchester! You will never see me again!” she yelled in his face.

“Whoa, whoa calm down, sweetheart,” Dean put his hands gently on her shoulders. “Look, I went out to a bar. I drank alone. I swear it. I shouldn’t’ve gone.”

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down. You two assholes left me here!” she retorted angrily.

“You wanna talk about leaving people? How about you disappearing from the fucking truck stop in Elkhart last week? You were MIA for three fucking days! Did I give you a load of shit when Loki dropped your ass in the backseat?”

“Yeah you did as I recall.”

“Well maybe I should ask what the hell you’re doing with that Trickster fuck while your gone. I’m just supposed to believe you two are ‘friends’? I bet you fuck him six ways from Sunday as soon as he picks your ass up.” River hadn’t decided she was going to actually punch him until she felt her knuckles collide with his jaw. He staggered a half step back and turned his dangerous jade eyes on her.

“Don’t you dare put your guilty fucking conscience on me, Winchester. I have NEVER fucked around on you. Even when you were dead,” she spat back. “He’s my best friend. I owe him and it’s not like I can fucking say no; I piss him off and he’ll send me to the ‘Land of the Lost’ again! Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to have to fight off a group of pissed off Sleestaks with nothing but a pointy stick?” River took a slow breath, running her fingers through her hair. “But I always, I always come back to you! Things get rough and you fucking disappear.”

“I’m not the one disappearing!” he yelled back.

“That’s not what I fucking mean and you know it! Every since Adam…you’re drinking more, you’re hardly talking to us except to bark orders and now this? You run off to a bar and you’re gone for hours!”

Dean took a deep breath, quickly loosing the pleasant buzz he had picked up at the bar. “Just trust me, please. I sat at the bar and drank alone. I lost track of time.”

“I’m trying to trust you but you make it really fucking hard,” River said sadly.

“So do you, Princess.” Dean replied. Just like that the argument fizzled out, River and Dean deflating as the fight left them. Sam still stood unsure and quiet near the door his eyes roamed over the room and noticed for the first time Jimmy was gone.

“Guys, where is Jimmy?” he asked worriedly.

 

*Authors note: So yeah River and Dean obviously don’t have the healthiest relationship. Trust is an issue, mental health is an issue and alcoholism is an issue. This isn’t glorifying any of those problems. If you or someone you know or love has issues then reach out and seek help.


	29. Chapter 29

Ch 29

“Guys, where’s Jimmy?” Sam asked. River met Dean’s eyes once more before she did an about face and stared at the giant man still standing within arms distance of the door.

“Where the hell were you, Sam?” she asked quietly.

“I told you I was gonna get a drink,” he shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders. His fingers clutched the flask containing the last few drops of demon blood and he felt calmer under his brother and Rivers stare.

“Oh thats right,” River smiled. 

“You went to the vending machines?” Sam nodded, quickly meeting her cold blue eyes before looking at a spot behind her. “You didn’t see Jimmy sneak out?” 

“I uh…I must’ve missed him.”

River ran her fingers down her throat thoughtfully, “You’ve been gone three hours. You sure you just went to the vending machines?”

Sam’s hazel eyes darted down to meet Rivers and then to his brothers. “I had a problem with the machine…it ate my quarters. So I had to go to the office and the manager had to call the repair-“ 

River held up her hand to stop him. “Enough. I’m tired. I am so very very tired. Jimmy’s gone, he’s going home. Probably taking a bus. Which means we have time for a few hours of sleep and then we can hit the road and try and intercept him or meet him at his house and make sure he and his family are safe. See you at dawn.” She turned away from the brothers and flipped her hoodie over her head and laid down on the closest bed without another word.

The hunters woke before the sun had fully crested the eastern horizon. River ran a search of bus passengers and destinations from the backseat of the Impala when Dean stopped to gas up and Sam ran into the store for caffeine. “He signed in with his real name. Idiot. He’s on his way to Pontiac. We should still be able to beat him home.” She told the brothers when they climbed back into the car. Dean nodded and revved the engine away from the gas station. 

The car was soon echoing with the music of Led Zeppelin as the miles and hours passed. River sat in the backseat quietly singing along and putting on makeup. Dean watched her in the rearview mirror as she checked her eyebrows. She had her small toiletry bag open on her crisscrossed legs and held a small mirror in one hand as she applied her mascara. 

“Hey guys,” Anna appeared suddenly in the seat next to River.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean cursed momentarily loosing control of the steering wheel and causing the car to swing wildly before he regained control. 

The sudden jerky movement caused River to almost jab her eye with her mascara wand and dropped her small mirror on the floor where it shattered. “Fuck,” she mumbled untangling her legs and reaching down to pick up the broken pieces. She sat back up and turned in her seat to face the crimson haired angel. If it was at all possible Ana looked more beautiful then she had the last time River had seen her. Her skin was bright and almost glowing. River could see the faint shimmer of her lilac colored wings tucked close to her back as they faded in and out of the space in the car. 

“Smooth move, Dean.” She said laughing lightly and sitting forward. 

“You know you could call first. Instead of just dropping in,” he grumbled. He looked back into the rearview mirror and watched as color slowly rose up River’s chest and neck, finally reaching her cheeks in shades of pink.

“I like the element of surprise,” Ana replied. “River you got mascara on your chin.” The angel reached her hand toward River and she jumped back as if shocked.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” River said wiping the back of her hand along her chin. Ana nodded and slid herself a few inches away and turned back towards Dean.

“You let Jimmy get away?” she asked the hunters.

“We didn’t let him.” Dean told her glancing over his shoulder. “He locked River in the bathroom and took off.”

“Where were you two?” Anna inquired.

“I was out and Gigantor here was taking his case to Capital hill over 75 cents.” Dean answered. Sam rolled his eyes and turned in his seat to face Anna and defend himself.

“You look different Sam.” Anna said before Sam had a chance to speak.

He snapped his mouth shut and looked back at his brother. “What? I don’t know…I got a haircut.”

The Angel shook her head and continued staring at him, “That’s not what I mean.” She sighed and turned back to River, “You let him lock you in the bathroom?”

“I didn’t let him do anything. Why the fuck are you here anyways?”

“Cas is in trouble. He was sent back home. Actually more like dragged back,” Anna answered. The hunter let out along breath through her nose and wiped her palms on her jeans.

“What? Dragged back to Heaven? Thats not a good thing?” Dean asked.

Anna shook her head, “It’s a very bad thing. A very painful, very bad thing. He pissed off someone high up. This is not good.”

“Cas said he had something to tell Dean. We were going to meet him when we found Jimmy,” Sam told her.

“Did Jimmy tell you what Cas had to say?”

“No, said he didn’t remember.”

“This is important.” Anna stressed gripping the back of the seat closest to Dean.

“You think we don’t know this a big deal, Anna? Cas was set up. Someone already tried to get him killed. Did you know that?” River nearly shouted.

“I heard there was some trouble. Possibly a traitor or traitors…You have to find Jimmy and find out if he knows what Cas knew…he’s probably already dead.”

“Where do you think we’re headed? We’re going after Jimmy.” River exclaimed. Dean and Sam glanced at the woman and Angel in the backseat. “Why are you still here?”

Anna’s dark green eyes met Dean’s briefly in the rearview mirror, “I had sex with Dean.”

River scoffed and rolled her eyes, “No shit.”

“And…and I want to apologize.”

“You wanna apologize for fucking Dean right here on this seat?” River patted the smooth leather seat between herself and the Angel. Dean cleared his throat nervously in the front seat and Sam kept twitching as if he wasn’t sure if he should turn around or not.

“I thought I was going to die. It was my last night on Earth.” Anna said.

River smiled humorlessly, her eyes narrowing, “Funny thing. I thought the exact same thing. Except instead of having sex with Dean like I wanted to I spent the night crawling around in horse shit painting sigils in my own blood trying to protect your ass.”

“Dean…” Anna began.

“Dean has no fucking excuse either. When comes right down to it. But you…you stayed behind. You knew what you were going to do and you were human long enough to know fucking some others chicks boyfriend is breaking Girl Code numero uno. So take your apology and shove it right up your flat, angelic ass.” River had begun edging forward, voice dripping with venom, “Get the fuck out of our car.” Anna blinked twice and then disappeared. She sat back against the seat turning to look at the raindrops pelting the glass.

“Riv,” Dean started.

“We’re good, Hot Stuff. Just drive. We need to find Jimmy before anyone else does,” River told him quietly. 

They drove for another few hours until Dean had to stop for gas. River and Sam went into the convenience store this time for snacks and coffee while Dean stayed outside stretching his stiff back. Sam was jittery and twitchy, alternating between rubbing his mouth and cracking his knuckles nervously. “You ok, Sammy? You’re all pale and sweaty.” 

“How many times have I fucking told you to stop calling me Sammy?” He barked loudly.The only other patron in the convenience store, an older woman in old-fashioned horn-rimmed glasses clucked her tongue disapprovingly at Sam’s language. 

River snatched the bag of trail mix out of his giant hand, “Sounds like you need some Midol you pissy bitch.” She slammed their collection of road food onto the counter in front of the clerk and turned towards the simmering pots of coffee and angrily poured three huge to-go cups of the molten liquid. 

“Is there a key for the toilet?” Sam grumbled to the nervous looking kid manning the cash register. He slid the key across the counter to Sam who swiped it up and stormed out. His stomach cramping with anxiety and the urge to scream nearly overwhelming. River flipped him off behind his back as he stalked out then grabbed her wallet and paid for their food and gas. He had used the last few drops of demon blood that morning and he already needed more. His skin was crawling, his mouth dry, even his damn hair felt on edge. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and immediately dropped it on the filthy restroom floor. “Fuck,” he growled as he punched in Ruby’s number. The phone rang and rang and rang then switched to the robotic voicemail message, “God damn it Ruby. This isn’t funny anymore. I am completely out. I need it! Call me.”

Sam still wasn’t back from the toilet so River slid into the front seat across from Dean. She wordlessly dumped their stash of snacks onto the seat between them and handed him his steaming cup of coffee. “You ok?” he asked after his first sip.

“Your giant dick of a brother is PMS-ing or something. Guess you’ll have to deal with both of us being bitchy the next couple of days; it happens when you get a bunch of girls together. Our cycles start to synch.” River said biting into a chocolate nougat bar and groaning in delight. “Oh god that’s better than sex.” She said chewing loudly and holding the candy bar out for Dean to try.

“Fuck you,” Dean laughed and took a bite and mimicked her groan, “Oh god that is good.” 

River laughed, “mmm-told you.”

Dean snaked his hand gently around the side of her face and pulled her towards him. He gently kissed the corners of her lips and she sighed at his touch. “I’m sorry things have been so shitty lately,” he murmured quietly kissing along her jaw but still avoiding kissing her full on the lips.

“Me too,” she whispered back. His lips now trailed down her neck and she shivered.

“I won’t fuck this up. I love you,” he finally took her lips in his, pulling her closer as she tangled her hands into his jacket and slid across the seat, spilling their collection of chocolate bars and preservative laced treats onto the floor. 

“Say it again,” River murmured against his lips.

Dean sat back and raised his eyebrows, “I won’t fuck this up.” 

“I love you,” she corrected.

“I know,” Dean said opening another candy bar. 

She laughed and punched him in the shoulder, “You’re such a jerk.” River sat back and watched as he inhaled the chocolate and coffee. “Dean I need to tell you something.”

“You’re not pregnant again are you? I mean not that that would be terrible but…”

“God no. I told you I can’t…it’s umm,” she wiped her hands nervously on her jeans, “It’s about Loki…he’s uh look he’s not umm…he’s a-“ She felt like her throat was suddenly closing and she coughed anxiously. Dean gave her a worried pat on the back and she tried to begin again but was interrupted when Sam flung the door open. 

“I’ve been gone five fucking minutes and you’re just gonna take my seat? I’m not sitting in the back my legs get too stiff.” Sam huffed. River sighed and rolled her eyes at Dean mouthing, “PMS” before she got out of the car.

“Sure thing, Sam. You got it. Sam. Wouldn’t want your legs to get stiff, Sam.” She pushed past him and climbed into the back seat. Dean threw them both a look and then started the car.

“You gonna tell me about Loki or what?” Dean said after moments of heavy silence. 

River had been staring out the window as the rainclouds followed them down the highway. “What? Oh yeah…umm he wanted me to go to Sweden with him for a few days for some music festival I told him no but I just wanted you to know in case I disappear.” Dean grunted and edged the car faster. She pulled nervously on the chain around her neck, “Maybe you could help me try and get this damn necklace off later…it’s stuck.”

They would’ve made to Pontiac with an hour to spare before Jimmy’s bus arrived in the local depot. They would’ve made it if not for the god damn construction truck that spilled a bucket full of nails across two lanes of the 55. Dean tried to steer Baby away from the jagged pieces of metal but one of those nasty sons of bitches punctured the tread on the front drivers side wheel. “Oh Baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I tried. I didn’t see that one,” Dean groaned as he kneeled down in front of the sadly deflated tire. Sam paced back in forth along the side of the car as Dean changed the tire. River kneeled down beside him as he explained how to use the jack, loosen the lug nuts and finally put the spare on. 

At just about the time Dean tightened the last lug nut Jimmy Novak sat down at his dining room table for a much delayed family dinner. “All we have is turkey and roast beef.” Amelia Novak set a plate of sandwiches down in front of her newly returned husband and their young daughter Claire. Jimmy smiled widely, running his hands along the familiar wood grain of his dining room table. 

“It’s wonderful. It’s perfect. Thank you, Ames.” He looked between his wife and their beautiful young daughter and realized again just how blessed he was. He reached forward and chose a sandwich off the plate.

“Daddy, aren’t you going to say grace?” Claire asked innocently.

He wiped at an errant tear that trailed down his cheek, “No, honey I don’t think I am. Let’s just eat and you can tell me how schools going.” He grasped his daughters small warm hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Before she could tell her daddy about her science fair project the door bell rang. Jimmy’s heart skipped a beat, his first thought being that the three sociopaths he had ditched had already caught up to him.

Instead he heard the familiar, loud voice of his best friend and neighbor Roger, “Am I losing my mind or did I see Jimmy walk in here about an hour ago?”

“Fuck the bus depot. Go to Jimmy’s house,” River said as Dean pulled the Impala back on the highway. The snow fell in gentle flurries, the landscape coated in the pristine powder. On any normal day it would have been considered beautiful. But right now the hunters felt the snow falling was symbolic of the sands of time slipping away, Jimmy and his family were in danger they could all feel it in their bones. Minutes ticked by as the Impala ate away the miles between them and the Novak’s house. 

“Shit, why’s the front door open?” River said gripping that seat in front of her as Baby skidded to a stop on the front lawn of Jimmy’s house. The hunters were out of the car as soon as the tires stopped spinning. Dean being the fastest runner entered the house first. Just as they feared they were too late. Jimmy was on the floor struggling with a snarling demon had him gripped around the throat. A tiny blonde woman was trying to wrestle the screaming demon off of him. Across the room a man clutched a young blonde girl in a chokehold and held a knife to her throat. Dean went for the man first, pulling his head back and slitting his throat with the demon knife. River swept down and scooped the young girl to her chest, covering her eyes. “You’re ok sweetheart, everything’s ok,” she cooed into her ear, “Just keep your eyes closed.”

The woman fighting with Jimmy let him go and sprang to her feet hurtling curses and promises of torture and death at the hunters. Jimmy stood on shaky legs and quickly pulled the blonde woman to his side. “Claire!” she screamed.

“I’ve got her!” River yelled back, holding the girl closer and dodging the possessed woman. Dean held the knife out and feinted toward the demon. The demon stoped her cursing and gagged. Dean and River turned towards Sam where he stood with his hand outstretched and eyes closed in concentration.

“Get…them…out of here!” he grunted, holding the demon with his psychic powers. Dean pushed River and the young girl towards Jimmy and his wife. River spared one more worried look over her shoulder at the brothers before herding the Novaks out of the house and back to the waiting Impala. Sam let out a shaky breath and grasped his head painfully.

“Can’t get it up, Sam?” the demon laughed taking a menacing step towards the hunter.

“No but I can!” Dean yelled grabbing the woman by the shoulder and spinning her towards him. Before he could sink the blade into her heart the demon erupted from the woman’s mouth in a plume of black smoke. Dean grabbed his younger brothers arm and pulled him out the front door, “Go, go, go!” 

“Get in the car!” River urged holding the door open and waiving the Novaks into the backseat. She looked up and saw the Winchesters rushing across the lawn as she closed the rear door and slid into the front seat. The brothers joined her a heartbeat later and Dean threw the car into gear and sped away from the house. River sat stiffly between the two big hunters, her hand finding Deans in the dark. He gave her fingers a quick squeeze, his green eyes darted over her head towards his brother. ‘You see that?’ his silent gaze seemed to ask. She tilted her head and gave a quick nod.   
Claire cried quietly in the backseat, her face pressed into her moms sweater. River turned around and looked over her shoulder at the young blonde girl. “Hey, Claire,” the girl sniffed loudly and Amelia patted her hair softly, “Do you know how to do a handstand?” 

Clair wiped her face and looked between River and her mom. “What? No-no I don’t.”

“How about at the next pitstop I show you how to do one? I’ve been trying to teach these two doofuses for months but they just keep landing on their pretty faces.” The young girl laughed and nodded her head. Amelia smiled and kissed her daughters forehead; Jimmy put his arm around his wife’s shoulder and pulled them both close. River turned back around and rested her head on Dean’s shoulder quickly letting the movement of the car and the familiar, comforting scent of his jacket lull her to sleep.

“Hey, princess you promised the kiddo a handstand.” It was pitch black outside still, either extremely late at night or early in the morning depending on which way you looked at the clock. Dean had stopped at a gas station to regroup and refuel. River woke with a start, wiping her face quickly and rolling her stiff shoulders; she ran her hand along the two day stubble on Dean’s jaw and kissed him. “I need a shower and shave.” He mumbled glancing behind her again, watching as his younger brother unfolded his long limbs and stepped out of the car. 

“Shower, yes. Shave, no. I like the scruff. Now get out and get me some coffee,” she pushed him towards the door and climbed out after him. Claire was bouncing on the balls of her feet and smiled broadly at River when she she walked up. Amelia excused herself to the restroom and River took the young girl to a patch of grass off to the side of the gas station to practice their handstands as promised. 

“She’s good with kids,” Jimmy told Dean as they watched River flip herself onto her hands, her boots sticking straight up in the air then carefully lower her legs back down. She nodded encouragingly to Claire who stood unsure for a moment before mimicking Rivers steps. She made it half way up before she tumbled over and they both erupted into laughter.

“Yeah she taught herself how to do that when she was an underage stripper,” Dean said scratching his chin. He quickly remembered the night River had told him more about her colorful past. She was five or six months pregnant at the time, her belly just starting to poke out and stretch her AC/DC shirt. They had been playing a stupid game of ‘Never Have I Ever’ during a long drive, sharing sips out of a water bottle instead of booze, Sam snoring in the backseat and oblivious to the laughter and secrets being shared in the front of the car. “What the hell were you thinkin’ man? They were waiting for you. Just like we said they would be.”

“I know. You were right…but I don’t know anything.” Jimmy said looking back over his shoulder as his wife joined River and Claire. 

“I don’t think they’re gonna be inclined to believe you. Besides you’re a vessel and we still don’t know how that whole thing works. It’s different with demons they can just shuck into any unprotected meat suit they want but Angels…they need something special. And the demons are gonna wanna know what makes you tick.” Sam told him.

“And that means vivisection if they’re feeling generous.” Dean added. A triumphant ‘whoop’ went off behind them and they turned to see Claire balancing on her hands for a few seconds before she once again fell forward onto the grass. 

“You are putting them in danger, Jimmy. We’re gonna tell you again: you need to come with us.” Sam said his jaw clenching.

Jimmy tore his eyes away from his laughing wife and daughter and looked back at the Winchesters. “How long?”

Sam sighed loudly, annoyed at Jimmy resistance. “Don’t you get it!” he practically yelled, “Forever. You can never be with them again. You stay with them and they are dead. So either come with us now or save yourself some grief and just put a bullet in their heads and yours.” Dean looked worriedly at his younger brother. “There’s no getting out. There’s no going home.”

“Jeez, Sam, don’t sugar coat it for the poor guy,” Dean sighed.

“I’m just telling him the truth, Dean! Someone has to!” Sam retorted. “Look, we’ll get them a car and we’ll send them on their way. To somewhere safe, away from us, away from you,” he added in a much softer tone.

Jimmy took a step back and ran his fingers through his hair digesting everything Sam had just shouted at him. “I need to go talk to Amelia,” he finally said. Dean nodded and watched as he walked towards his family. River smiled at him, they exchanged a few quiet words and she led Claire back towards the car. Once she got the girl settled with a movie on her laptop River joined the Winchesters.

“So….?” she asked raising her eyebrows.

“So hopefully, Jimmy stops being a fucking idiot and comes with us.” Sam grunted. River nodded her head looking back at Jimmy and his wife. Amelia was shaking her head and wiping tears off her face. “We need to get going. We’re waisting time,” Sam grumbled stalking back to the car.

“The fuck is his problem?” River muttered to Dean. 

They piled back into the Impala and drove until they found a parking garage rife with cars to choose from. Sam disappeared into the rows of cars and returned a few moments later behind the wheel of a tan colored four door sedan. “Your car,” he gave Amelia a snarky bow and climbed back into the Impala. The hunters sat in silence in their car, giving the Novaks a private moment to say their goodbyes. Jimmy silently entered the car after a few minutes, Dean turned the engine over and they left the mother and daughter standing alone in the garage.

“Mama, why’s daddy leaving again?” Claire asked quietly as the shiny black car drove away. Amelia let out a long breath through her nose and closed her eyes. When she opened them her lite green eyes had been replaced by inky blackness. The young girl took a startled breath and opened her mouth to scream. Amelia, the gentle woman who greeted her daughter at the bus stop every day after school with a kiss, who had never raised her voice to the young girl let alone her hand, pulled her hand back and slapped Claire. The resounding ‘smack’ echoed in the abandoned garage. Claire was too shocked and terrified to cry out, instead she brought one shaking hand to her cheek as silent tears spilled from her wide eyes.

“It’s just not my god damn day, is it?” the demon seethed, “Quit blubbering you little bitch.” The demon wearing her mothers face grabbed her painfully around the arm and drug her back to the idling car, tossing her unceremoniously into the backseat. 

“I’m sorry I locked you in the bathroom,” Jimmy said after a few silent miles.

River, who had been reading a very creased and dog-eared paperback with the aid of her small backlight looked up, “Yeah, well I’m sorry I didn’t just pee with the door open. I’m a lousy fucking babysitter.” She turned her attention back to her book and the car once again fell into silence. Jimmy soon fell asleep, his head lolling against the cold window. River watched him over her book for a few minutes before pulling Cas’s trench coat out of her bag. She folded it into a makeshift pillow, climbed across the seat towards Jimmy and carefully slid it under his head. Dean glanced over his shoulder at her and she raised her eyebrows and nodded towards Sam.

Dean cleared his throat and took a deep breath, “What the hell was that back there man? You almost fainted trying to put that demon in a chokehold.”

“I didn’t faint. I just got a little dizzy,” Sam muttered.

“I thought you could kill them…you killed Alastair.” River said quietly sitting forward, draping her arms over the seat between the brothers.

“I did.”

“Then what the hells going on with your mojo, huh? It’s yo-yoing all over the place,” Dean said. “I’m not trying to pick a fight here….it’s just you’re scaring me, man.”

“I’m scaring myself,” Sam said honestly.

“You look like shit, Sam. Seriously, what the fuck is going on? Are you sick? You been cursed? What?” River asked him. Sam did indeed look like hell, he had dark bags under his eyes, his normal tanned complexion was pale and waxy.

“No…it’s just…” He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence because River’s pocket started singing “Highway to the Danger Zone”. Jimmy grunted and smacked his lips in his sleep as River pulled her phone out.

“Hello?….Who is this?” she sat back and tapped Jimmy on the shoulder until he woke up, “Dude, it’s your wife.”

He grabbed the phone with one hand and with the other tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes, “Amelia? Baby, what’s wrong-….oh my god.” Dean didn’t need to hear the rest of the conversation, he was already swinging Baby in a wide arch on the empty highway and heading back in the direction they had come. Jimmy ended the call with shaking hands and handed River her phone back, “They have my family.”


	30. Chapter 30

Ch 30  
“They told you to come alone. So you’re goin’ in alone, understand. We’ll sneak in, go through the catwalks and pin them in. We’ll get your family out ok?” Sam clapped Jimmy around the shoulder. The three hunters and the nervous man wearing Cas’s trench coat stood outside an abandoned car factory. 

‘It’s always gotta be some creepy ass old building,’ River thought to herself. “This’ll work, Jimmy. No bodies gonna get hurt. Stay calm, we’ll do our part and all you have to do is yours.”

“Stay calm! How am I supposed to do that?” He nervously straightened his jacket again, “Just gimme a couple of minutes.” He quickly walked away from the hunters leaving them to watch his retreating form.

“This is a trap,” River said aloud to no one in particular.

“I know it is. That’s why I got a plan.” Dean cockily smiled back.

“You wouldn’t mind making us privy to it, would you?” Two large men and an auburn haired woman appeared in front of the hunters, their black eyes shining maliciously.

“Son of a bitch,” the three tired hunters muttered in tandem. A scuffle quickly ensued, Sam surged forwards demon knife gripped tightly in his sweaty hand. Dean took on his own demon leaving the third to attack River. She swung her balled fist and connected with the demons jaw, his head knocked to the side but quickly recovering from the blow. A grunt from one or both of the brothers echoed behind her, fists connecting to flesh and the metallic clatter of the knife being dropped. The demon rushed forwards and gripped River around the throat, lifted her a few feet off the ground and then slammed her into the hard, cracked asphalt. The wind immediately knocked out of her lungs and she saw bright spots around her peripheral vision. Dean and Sam soon landed on their backs next to her and they all groaned in pain. “This part of the plan too, hot stuff?” River asked as she was yanked painfully back to her feet and marched into the building along with the Winchesters.

“Now the party can get started,” Amelia leered at the three hunters as they were shoved forward. Jimmy stood aside to make room for them, Claire was tied to a chair across the room, her head resting silently on her chest. “Did you get the knife?” she asked her henchman. The auburn haired woman opened her jacket and showed Amelia the knife she had tucked into her belt loop. Amelia smiled and blinked letting her obsidian eyes show. “Well, well. I was pissed to get this assignment. I hate wearing these stinking meat suits but look now things are finally coming up my way. Still have you four assholes and the kid to take care of though…”

“Listen-listen to me please, let my wife and my daughter go. Please, they have nothing to do with this,” Jimmy took a step forward, hands outstretched placatingly.

“You weak, mortal coward they have everything to do with this.” She pulled a pistol out from behind her back, “It’s time for you all to die now. Go kill little orphan Annie.” One of the nameless demons behind them broke off and stalked towards the young girl. Amelia aimed the gun at River, the hunter rolled her shoulders and straightened her back; at least she would die standing up straight. The demon smiled then turned the gun on Jimmy firing one shot into his stomach. The man let out a startled grunt and fell backwards, hands clutching at the blood now pouring from his abdomen. River tried to dive towards the man now bleeding out on the floor but was stopped by one of the men behind her yanking her back by her hair. She let out a pained yell before smashing her elbow into the demons nose. The distraction was all the other two needed, Sam and Dean took on the the demons behind them. Across the room the demon Amelia had ordered to kill Claire got a nasty surprise. The little blonde girls head suddenly snapped up, hers eyes glowing with a fierce blue light. The ropes binding her to the chair snapped and she stood up. The demon tried to scramble away but Claire laid her hand on his forehead and killed him instantly. 

Jimmy watched from where he still lay on the dirty ground, hands pressed into his bleeding stomach. “Castiel?” He asked. His little girl looked down at him, eyes cold and unconcerned as his life blood spilled out. She strode calmly into the foray of struggling hunters and demons. Claire grabbed the one that currently had River pinned underneath him, his huge fist pulled back to wallop her again. The red head flinched in preparation for another punch, her upper lip split and cheek an ugly red from the first impact of his fist. Except the blow never landed, the demon was pulled off her and thrown onto his back as if he weighed nothing. Tiny, silent, doll-faced Claire stood over him, her head cocked to one side as she scrutinized his black eyes. The demon tried crawling backwards away from the little girl. She followed his retreat, placed one small, pale hand on his sweating forehead and burned out the demon inside the vessel. River sat up, wiped the blood off her lips and watched as Claire similarly killed the demon Dean had been fighting. 

“What the shit?” she muttered as Dean hauled her to her feet and pulled her towards his younger brother. “She has fucking wings, D….Castiel is that you in there?” River yelled at the little girl as she walked away from them. Claire stopped briefly and glanced over her shoulder, face stoic, eyes unreadable.

Sam and his adversary had tumbled several feet away. Sam’s giant body was kneeling over the struggling woman about River’s size, she grunted in pain as Sam’s head dipped down to her neck. Sam groaned in pleasure and stood up, head dipped back in ecstasy as the demon blood entered his needy body. He turned his head and came face to face with his brother, River and Claire. His mouth and jaw covered in sticky, red blood. He ran his tongue over his lips gathering more drops of the blood before turning his attention back to the moaning demon still pinned underneath him. He grabbed for the demon blade still caught in her belt and plunged it into her heart. He then pulled himself to his full 6’5’’ height and turned back towards his brother and River. They stood as if rooted to the floor, wearing similar looks of disgust and confusion. They were so focused on him they didn’t hear Amelia running towards them. Sam looked over their heads and shot his hand out, the demon that was riding Amelia skidded to a halt black smoke instantly poured out of her mouth and burned to oblivion at her feet. She teetered unsteadily and River caught her quickly under her arms. “You’re ok,” she told the woman. Amelia reached out for her daughter who turned and walked wordlessly away.

“Claire?” Amelia called following her daughter. They found Claire kneeling in front of Jimmy, where he sat leaning against a wall in a rapidly expanding puddle of blood.

“We do keep our promises, Jimmy. You have our gratitude. Thank you,” Claire gently turned Jimmy’s face closer. “It’s time to go home Jimmy. Your real home. You will rest for eternity in the fields of the Lord.”

Jimmy shook his head weakly, “No. No. Claire.”

“Claire is with me. She is chosen. It is in her blood as it is in yours.”

“Just take me. Please, take me,” Jimmy moaned as another waive of pain and weakness shook him.

“I want you to understand Jimmy; if you make this decision you will not age, you will not die. If this last year was painful for you imagine a hundred, a thousand more like it.”

“It doesn’t matter. Take me. Let my daughter go.”

“As you wish, Jimmy Novak,” Claire gently held her fathers face in her hands. A blinding white light exploded from Claires eyes and hands, traveling from her to her father. The four other humans that had been silently watching the exchange staggered away from the kneeling figures covering their eyes. The brilliant light of Castiel’s grace flared once more through Jimmy’s eyes then disappeared. Claire fell to her hands and knees, shaking uncontrollably. Amelia rushed forwards and gathered her daughter into her arms. Jimmy once again under the control of Castiel stood up, completely healed and disinterested in the reunion between mother and daughter. He walked quickly away from the crying duo and pushed past the hunters. 

“Castiel? What the hell, dude?” River reached out and grabbed his hand as he walked past her. The angel stopped and turned his ice blue eyes towards her. She let go of his hand and took an involuntary step back.

“Cas, hold up a sec would you?” Dean blared as the Angel once again turned to walk away from them. Castiel sighed loudly and River almost laughed. “What did you want to tell us?"

“I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean. I serve heaven. I don’t serve man. And I certainly don’t serve you.” He disappeared an instant later, leaving nothing but fluttering moats of dust. Dean turned away from the spot Cas had disappeared from back to his brother, who was still covered in demon blood, and River who was mindlessly rubbing her thumb along the lollipop charm hanging from her neck.

“Go wash your face before you scare the kid,” she said. Sam quickly wiped his hand around his mouth and grimaced when he saw the sticky blood clinging to his hand. “Come on, I’ll get the car started for you.” River coaxed Claire out her mothers arms and led them out of the abandoned building. 

The brothers followed her out of the building a few minutes later. They had stayed behind to clean up the bodies. River sat in the front seat, furiously tapping away at her phone and made no movement to get out of Sams way when he leaned down and looked through the window. He straightened up and threw Dean his best bitch-face over the roof of the car, “Can you make her move?”

“Nope.” Dean answered as he slid into the seat next to her. Sam opened the backdoor and begrudgingly folded himself into the backseat.

“Who’re you texting?” Sam huffed from the backseat as Dean turned the car on. 

River typed a few more words into her phone before setting it down on the seat between her and Dean. “No one…Loki. He’s cheating at ‘Words with Friends’ again. He keeps using ancient Norwegian words. Fucking stupid super powers…” she grumbled sliding across the seat and squeezing Deans knee.

“Could you just not give him a hand job while I’m still awake.” Sam harped. River and Dean flashed him their middle fingers as they drove away. They drove in silence for several hours, the only noise coming from the speakers as Dean’s favorite Zeppelin album played on loop. River rested her head on Dean’s shoulder and watched as the miles ticked by on the odometer. “You guys gonna say anything?”Sam finally asked after the fifth hour of silence. 

“What do you want us to say?” Dean sighed as River sat up and shifted across the bench seat.

Sam sat forward, mimicking the way River usually sat with her arms draped over the seat. “I don’t know. Anything. Yell at me. I mean aren’t you guys mad?”

“No.” Dean answered quickly.

“Then let me explain myself.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” River said quietly. 

“Then maybe my brother does.”

“Nope, don’t care.” Dean told him.

“You don’t care? Really?” Sam sat back heavily against the seat rubbing his eyes. His phone buzzed in his pocket and stopped him trying to push the subject any further. “Hey, Bobby, whats up?”

“The apocalypse you genius. I need you three to shag ass here. How far out are you idjits?” Bobby grunted into the phone.

“I don’t know an hour or two?” Sam answered.

“Alright good. Hurry the hell up I need some help with something big once you get here.” He ended the call as suddenly as he initiated it.

Sam huffed and slide the phone back into his pocket, “What the hell crawled up his ass?” 

River shrugged her shoulders, “That grumpy old bastard always something or other up his crotchety ass.” A passing cars headlights lit up her blue eyes and she mets Deans worried jade ones across the seat as she grasped his hand and planted a soft kiss on the back of it. They arrived at the Singer salvage yard a little more than an hour later. Bobby was waiting impatiently on his bowed front porch.

“Took you three long enough,” he gruffed at them, “Come on its in the basement.” The three younger hunters tiredly ascended the steps and into Bobby’s cluttered, comforting home. He didn’t wait for them to catch up, his trucker hat whipping down the back hallway to the stairwell that led to the basement.

“Jeez Bobby, you think we could get a cup of coffee or something first.” Sam grumbled following him down the rickety staircase.

“We’ll have time for that later. We got a demon problem on our hands. It’s in here,” Bobby said over his shoulder as he swung the iron door of the panic room open, “Go see for yourself.” He nodded his chin to Sam who stepped into the panic room confused. Dean and River hung back watching as he turned in a slow circle not seeing or sensing anything out of the ordinary. 

“What’s the demon problem, Bobby?” Sam asked turning back to the doorway where his family stood.

“You.” Bobby slammed the heavy iron door in his adopted son’s face, swinging the lock and the peep hole closed. Sam’s angry muffled voice echoed immediately from the other side of the door as did blunted clangs where he kicked and punched uselessly. 

Dean rested his head on the cool metal whispering, “I’m sorry.”


	31. chapter 31

Ch31

Sam alternated between yelling, cursing and pleading with them to let him out of the panic room. He cried, apologized and threatened, calling out for Dean, River and Bobby. His angry footsteps echoed around the steel cage. Dean sat silently for hours on the basement steps. Finally, having steeled himself to face his baby brother, he took a deep breath and walked the ten paces to the steel door. He opened the small window into the room and met his brothers blood shot eyes. “Dean, let me out. This isn’t funny anymore.”

“No. Not ‘till you dry out,” Dean said shaking his head.

Sam slammed his palms on either side of the window, “You’ve got to be kidding me! Is this some fucked up version of an intervention?”

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

“I am sorry I lied to you, ok? Please let me out and we can talk about this,” Sam pleaded.

“You don’t have to apologize for lying to me over and over again. You couldn’t help it. It was the blood. I get it.”

“Fuck you. You think I’m taking demon blood for kicks? I’m not a junkie.”

Dean let out a humorless laugh, “We’ve been driving around with Tyronne Biggums for months. I can’t believe we didn’t see it earlier.”

“Is this because of River? She fucking hates Ruby. She’ll do anything to keep her from us.” Sam kicked the metal door in frustration.

“Good! That demon bitch has her claws in you. She’s been fucking with your head the same way she did mine.”

“She is helping me get strong enough to kill Lilith!” Sam yelled.

“Strong? You call this strong? I call it pathetic.” Dean retorted.

“Killing Lilith is what matters, Dean. Or have you forgotten what she did to you? What she did to your sons? She murdered them like they were nothing. She tore River’s insides apart-”

Dean slammed his hands into the door this time, his face getting as close to the bars as possible, “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare try and say you’ve gone down this path for them.” He took another deep, calming breath before looking back to his brothers eyes. “Lilith is going to die. Don’t worry about that. Me and Riv are gonna gank that white eyed evil cunt….Congrats Sammy, you just won yourself a staycation in Bobby’s iron paradise. We’ll let you know how the apocalypse goes.” He slammed the window shut and walked away from his brothers frustrated yells. 

River stood at the top of the stairs, watching as he made his bow legged trek upwards. She smiled wanly, “I’ve come to the realization that I am a really terrible nurse. Didn’t realize when I was pregnant, my stitches always come out crooked, can’t tell when one of my best friends is strung out on demon skag…” Dean stopped at the second to the top stair and for once they stood eye to eye. “I’ve seen a lot of people detox from a lot of shit and it’s always really bad before it gets better.” She said looking down the dark stairwell where Sam’s angry yells echoed.

“How bad is this gonna be?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know. Real Bad? Really really bad?” She shrugged and bit her bottom lip, “I say we summon Ruby and stab that bitch in the face until she tells us something useful. Probably make us feel better. It’d definitely make me feel better.”

“Where’s Bobby?”

“Rufus called him, there meeting up somewhere,” she answered turning away from the stairwell. He followed her up the last step and locked the door. 

“So we’re alone?” He asked to River’s retreating form.

“Mmmhmmm, figured we could catch up on some research. Bobby has a fascinating book on Fae folk,” she called over her shoulder walking into the cluttered sitting room. 

Dean grunted, “Seriously?“ His disgust at the prospect of thumbing through dusty books was cut short by a flying piece of fabric. He pulled the fabric off his head and saw it was River’s ‘Rush’ shirt. 

She stood in front of him, sliding her bra off her shoulders, “Or we could go upstairs, get naked, and I ride you so hard Bobby’s neighbors are gonna need a cigarette when we’re done.” 

“I’d rather do that,” Dean answered pulling the baby blue lacy bra down her arms and tucked it and her shirt into his back pocket, not wanting to leave a trail of discarded clothes for Bobby to find. 

She smirked at him then turned towards the staircase, “You sure? Bobby has a book on Spriggans that looks really interesting too…Swear I saw a Spriggan in Oregon.” Dean picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, smacking her ass in the process instead of giving her an answer. “You better do that again when I get my jeans off,” River laughed and squirmed on his shoulder. She wasn’t a tiny girl and being picked up so effortlessly by Dean never got old. It reminded her how strong he really was, hidden beneath all the layers of flannel and snark.

Dean groaned palming himself through his jeans, “You’re not gonna be able to walk straight when I’m done with you, princess.” He climbed the remainder of the stairs with her over his shoulder only putting her down when they reached the landing to the second floor. She stood on her toes and pulled him towards her, her lips crashing into his as her hands worked on his belt and jeans. Somehow, even with River pulling his aching cock out and wrapping her warm hand firmly around him, he was able to back them slowly down the long hallway into his room kicking the door shut behind them. 

Once they were both pleasantly spent, covered in a fine sheen of sweat and Dean having done his damnedest to keep his promise about River not being able to walk straight they dozed lazily on the tiny twin bed. River laid on Deans chest, listening as his heart rate and breathing slowed down. Dean ran his callused fingers down her spine, tracing the protective sigils she had tattooed there. She had explained each one to him ages ago, starting with the anti-possession symbol at the base of her neck, followed by Vegvìsir the Viking symbol to help her find her way in both the literal and figurative sense, then the left eye of Horus for protection in this life and the next, followed by a few Kanji and Sanskrit sigils, and lastly strange marks that looked like the tattoo artist sneezed during the application but which River had assured him were various sigils that warded her against psychic attacks, different curses and one a Wiccan friend had talked her into getting that was supposedly the sigil of an Archangel. She had got that particular tattoo when she was barely getting her feet wet in the hunting profession. Her friend and mentor in magic, Sacha, had picked it for her because ‘Gabriel’ had been a mighty angelic warrior. His sigil supposedly helped increase healing, reduce pain and protect those on travels. All things a hunter would need whether they believed in Angels or not. Now she realized she walked around with a glorified tramp-stamp of her best friends name. River often wondered if Gabriel could sense the sigil on her and that’s why he decided to strike up a conversation in that coffee shop almost two years prior.

Sam’s disgruntled yells drifted up through the ventilation ducts, sounding at times like he was having an argument with someone drawing River out of her daydream. “What are you thinking about?” Dean asked quietly.

“Getting the hell out of here,” she answered sitting up and looking down at him. “Me and you we should get the hell out of here for a few days. Just go somewhere…We could go to the Grand Canyon. I’d like to see it before the world ends.” She straddled his waist, her own hand moving to Castiel’s handprint seared into Dean’s shoulder.

Dean dug his fingers into her hips and ground his own hips upward, “You’ve never been to the Grand Canyon?” 

River shook her head. “We could get a room at a nice hotel, the kind that give you those little bottles of shampoo and actually changes the sheets between customers.”

Dean smiled lazily, “Yeah we could splurge and get some room service.”

“Let’s not get crazy, Winchester.” She replied.

Dean sat up on his elbows, “Yeah, ok. Fuck it. Lets go. I need some room to breathe, I have no idea how to help Sammy, Cas is being a douche.”

“Really? Ok! I’ll pack real quick. Sam has enough water and MRE’s to last until next century. We can text Bobby on the way,” River hopped off Dean who gave a disgruntled groan. She bustled around the room stuffing clean clothes into their duffle bags. They had been too distracted to hear the tired wheeze of Bobby’s car as he parked outside. They also didn’t hear his heavy footsteps up the bowed front steps or the creak of the front door as he re-locked it behind him. What they did hear was Bobby hollering up the stairs, “Will you two idjits get the hell down here!”

River dropped the bag and sighed, “Of course. You know at this point I would settle for twelve hours of privacy.” They dressed quickly and met Bobby in his library where he was sifting through stacks of papers. “What’s the news Papa Bear?”

“Well, it ain’t good: 10 species go extinct in Key West, a teacher goes crazy locks the auditorium doors and kills exactly 66 kids, 15 man fishing crew in Alaska all stricken blind- cause unknown, 13 newborn baby boys go missing from a single hospital wing in Mumbai.” Bobby handed them copies of the newspaper articles. “All that in a single day. Rufus double checked ‘em. They’re all seals and breakin’ fast.”

“There’s probably only a handful left,” River tossed the papers she had read back onto Bobby’s pile, “Where the hell are the Angels?” She chewed her thumbnail nervously and adjusted the charm around her neck.

Dean shook his head, “I don’t know babe. Bunch of useless winged asshats.”

“Fuckin-A,” she muttered in response. More muffled yells drifted up from the basement and the three hunters subconsciously turned towards the grate in the floor where the sound emanated from.

Bobby pulled on his hat and scratched his beard, “I was wonderin’ something.”

“Yeah, what?” Dean asked over his shoulder as he made his way to the fridge for a cold beer.

“You know with the apocalypse being nigh and all….” he was interrupted by a particularly loud yell from the grate in the floor, “is now the best time to be having this little family drama?”

“What do you mean, Papa Bear?”

The older man shifted on his feet, “It’s just…Sam can kill demons. Shouldn’t we be using that trick right about now?”

“Bobby, he is drinking demon blood! It’s not a thing we should be encouraging,” River said watching as Dean stalked back into the room.

“I don’t like this anymore than you two do. But he’s got a real shot at stopping the apocalypse.” Bobby sighed.

“At what cost? Sacrifice Sam’s life, maybe his soul? No way. Times are tough and we use Sam as a nuclear war head?” Dean yelled.

“I know you hate me for suggesting it. I hate myself! I love that boy like my son.” Bobby said calmly. “All I’m saying is maybe the only reason he’s locked up down there, instead of killing demons on the battlefield is because we love him too much.”

Dean stormed out of the house, the back door slamming in his wake. “Well, I guess I’ll go make some coffee,” River muttered walking into the kitchen. She busied herself measuring the coffee grounds and water, finding clean coffee mugs and mentally debating with herself if she should risk taking Sam a cup. Deans angry voice echoed from somewhere in the junkyard causing her to drop the chipped mug she had found in the back of one of the cabinets. “God damn it,” she muttered stooping down to pick up the broken chunks of porcelain. 

“I’ll get it sweetheart. Don’t worry about it,” Bobby kneeled down next to her, “You ok?”

Another yell from the junkyard, “CASTIEL! YOU ASSHOLE! GET DOWN HERE!”

She sat back on her knees, “No, Bobby I am not ok. I haven’t been ok in a while.” She listened as Dean’s yells moved further away from the house and Sam’s muffled voice took a panicked turn. “Sam’s a fucking demon blood junkie, Dean literally has the fate of the entire world on his shoulders, the one Angel I thought was on our side has been reprogrammed and all I can think about is wanting that bitch dead. I want to watch her die, I want to see her ripped apart. I don’t care how or at what fucking cost, Bobby. I just want her to die.”

“I know-“

“You don’t know. None of you know. I felt her claws inside me,” River took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The confession that was already spilling from her lips she had only shared with Gabriel, keeping it from Dean in an attempt to save him anymore pain. “I could hear-I could hear my babies scream inside of me, Bobby. I hear those screams every time I close my fucking eyes.” She blinked rapidly, warm tears dropping onto the shards of the broken cup. “I felt them die. I told her no. For what? Some fucked up prophecy to make sure Dean went to hell on the right pretenses to start the fucking Apocalypse…I have no idea what I’m doing anymore.” The coffee pot beeped and River stood up, brushing dust off her hands. Bobby sat heavily on the wood floor and looked at the still scattered pieces of the broken coffee mug.

“Castiel, god damn it will you please-please just answer me,” Dean prayed again. His voice hoarse and throat sore from screaming. He turned on his heels in a tired circle and came face to face with the trench coated angel, “Where the hell have you been, asshole? I’ve been screaming myself hoarse for two and a half hours.”

Castiel took a step forward, “I’m here now, Dean. What is it that you want?”

“Where do I start?” Dean yelled annoyed at the Angels indifference, “How about: what the hell happened in Illinois? You had something you wanted to tell me. So what the hell was it?”

“Nothing of any import.”

“Oh come on! Cut the crap! What happened to you? You get dragged back to Cloud City and waterboarded until you start spouting the company motto, huh?”

“I can’t Dean. I will not go against orders again,” Castiel’s gravelly voice was strained and he turned away from Dean’s piercing green eyes. “Get to the point; why you really called me here. It’s about Sam, right?

“Can he do it? Kill Lilith, stop the apocalypse?”

“As you have probably surmised he would have to take certain steps to become strong enough for such a task.”

“Hulk up the demon blood regimen?” Dean asked.

“The amount of blood it would take to defeat Lilith would change your brother forever. Most likely he would become a creature you would feel compelled to kill.” Castiel walked back to the hunter, “There is no reason this has to be. We believe it is you, Dean, that can stop the End of Days not your brother. Our only question is whether you are ready to accept that responsibility. Stand up and embrace your role. You, Dean Winchester, are the one who will stop it.”

Dean took a deep breath and looked toward the dim lights reflecting from Bobby’s kitchen. He could just make out two shapes drifting behind the large window over the kitchen sink. “If I do this, Sammy doesn’t have to?”

“If that gives you some comfort,” Castiel answered.

“God, you are a dick,” he sighed, “Fine. I’m in.”

“You give yourself wholly to the service of God and his Angels?” Castiel asked him.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded.

“You have to say it, Dean.”

Deans shoulders fell slightly, “I swear to serve God and you guys.”

“And you swear you will follow His will and His orders as swiftly as you did your own fathers,” Castiel’s cold blue eyes stared back at Dean.

Dean straightened up, rolling his shoulders back and squared his jaw, “Yes, I swear.”

Castiel’s stoic facade broke and a small smile lit his features, “Ok. Good.”

“Now what?” Dean asked.

“Now you wait, we will call upon you when it’s time.” 

Castiel disappeared leaving Dean alone between the stacks of rusting discarded cars. He followed the weaving dirt trail back to Bobby’s, entering the brightly lit kitchen to find River holding a cup of coffee for him. “Did he answer?” she asked. Dean nodded taking a long swallow of the hot liquid. “And?” Sam’s almost constant yells continued in the background, the three tired hunters having grown accustomed to the sound echoing through out the house.

“And Robbie the Angelic Robot said I needed to man up and stop Armageddon.”

“Did he happen to say how you’re gonna accomplish that?” Bobby asked gruffly from his spot at the kitchen counter.

“I just had to swear I’d do whatever God told me to. Then they’ll beep me when I’m needed.”

River set her cup down, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Cas said if I do this, if I step up and follow orders Sam doesn’t have to be the one on the kamikaze mission to gank Lilith.”

“So it’s gonna be you risking your ass again!” River said crossing her arms over her chest. “Since when are we trusting the Angels? Uriel tried to kill you! And me! We still don’t know what the hell really happened in LA. We don’t know what the fuck happened to Cas. And now you’re just gonna be their bitch?” 

“I am not their bitch! Give me some credit here, babe! Of course I don’t trust them! They come on like Romulan used car sales men.” Dean yelled turning away from her angry glare.

“You are such a nerd!” River yelled back frustrated.

Bobby sighed loudly, “Dean, son, can we just…why the hell are you sliding into bed with them now?”

“Because what other option do I have! It’s either trust the Angels or let Sammy trust a fucking demon!” Dean sighed.

“I see your point,” Bobby conceded. River paced the room stopping over the vent in the floor and rubbing the bridge of her nose. The three took a much needed breather, the silence taking a moment to catch up with them.

“Do you hear that?” River asked after a moment. The constant barrage of Sam’s angry, disembodied voice was disconcertingly absent. She turned to face Dean and Bobby, “I think we should check on Renton.”

“Who?” Bobby grunted, “You idjits and your damned nonsense, can’t ya’ll just speak in a language I can understand.” The grumbling continued as they hurried to the locked door leading to the basement and then down the rickety stairs. The basement was void of Sam’s yells, instead they heard staggered grunts and moans from behind the heavy iron door. Dean reached the door first and swung the small window open. Sam lay prone on the floor, muscles contracting painfully, his arms and legs struggling against some unseeable force. His face was red, blood vessels standing out as he struggled to breathe. 

“What if he’s fakin’?” Dean asked as River joined him at the window, she stood on the tips of her toes and could just see Sam laying on the floor. 

“It’s three of us and one of him, if he’s faking it we kick his ass.” River countered. “Bobby get the door.” Before Bobby could unlock the door Sam was picked up off the floor and flung to the nearest wall with a heavy thud, the same invisible force sent him careening up and down the walls before he was dropped bodily onto the floor where he lay still. Dean rushed to his brothers side, “Sammy! Sammy come on man!” 

River slid down on Sam’s opposite side, her fingers sliding to the side of his neck to check for a pulse and quickly checking his chest for breaths. “He’s not breathing! I don’t think he has a pulse! Help me!” Her hands immediately went to his chest and she pushed down on his breast bone hard and fast, “Dean! Come on!” she yelled between compressions.

“I don’t-I don’t know what to do!” Dean yelled panicked at the sudden paleness of his brothers face. River stopped pushing on Sam’s broad chest, moved her hands up to his face where she used one hand to pinch his nose and the other to pull on his jaw, she sealed her lips over his and gave him two full breathes before moving back to his chest.

“God damn it, Sam! Dean, upstairs, my small blue bag—bring it now!” she glanced up and met Deans green eyes, “Now, Winchester! Bobby, get me IV fluids!” She finished barking orders at the stunned hunters. Dean stood immediately and ran up the stairs, orders were good, orders he could follow, ‘How come I don’t know CPR? Dr. Sexy does it every other episode on some babe with big tits.” He thought as he snatched the requested bag and bolted back downstairs. Sam had started seizing again, muscles contorted, Bobby and River physically holding him down so he wouldn’t fly into the walls. “We need to restrain him so he doesn’t Peter Pan around the room again.” River gasped trying to hold Sam’s convulsing body still. They lifted Sam off the floor and onto the small cot in the center of the room. Dean and Bobby fastened his wrists and ankles with thick leather belts while River injected Sam with a combination of meds she hoped would stop any more seizures and wouldn’t kill him. They sat and watched him tensely for another half hour, the fits stopped and he fell unconscious. River deemed it safe enough for them to leave him and the three reconvened upstairs.

Dean sat heavily onto Bobby’s sagging couch holding his head in his hands. River sat on top of Bobby’s desk, pushing books and piles of papers out of her way. Bobby took a swig from an open bottle of Kentucky Bourbon before turning to face them. “I’m gonna ask one more time : are doing the right thing here?”

“You saw what was happening to him down there, Bobby!” Dean said standing up. “The demon blood is killing him.”

“No it isn’t. We are,” Bobby said harshly.

“What?” Dean asked.

River closed her eyes and ran her tongue over her lips, “Bobby’ right, Dean. He’s dying and we are the ones killing him.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Dean yelled.

“Cold turkey is not working. He is going through hellfire withdrawals and he will not survive this, Dean. Not unless he gets what he needs.” She continued, meeting his eyes. She watched as heart made his decision for him, he closed his eyes briefly and shook his head.

“No,” he answered. “No, I am not giving my brother demon blood. I will not do it.”

“He will die, son.” Bobby clarified.

“Then he dies human, with his soul intact,” Dean cast his eyes upward. “I guess I found my line. I will not let him do this to himself. I will not let him turn into a monster.” River nodded and wiped her palms under her eyes, clearing the tears that had silently fell. Bobby took another long pull from his bottle of bourbon and sat heavily in chair. The next few hours were spent in silence, the three sitting quietly sifting through Bobby’s vast armada of lore before they each finally fell asleep. Bobby lay his head down on his desk after he finished his bottle of Hunters Helper. Dean and River somehow cocooned themselves together to fall asleep on the small, threadbare couch. 

They slept peacefully for several hours, neither River nor Dean stirring when the heavy iron door of Sam’s impromptu Sioux Falls Betty Ford center suddenly unlocked and opened. They slept through the quiet, hesitant steps as Sam climbed the stairs from the basement then snuck through the kitchen and out the back door. Bobby, however, was awake the second the third board from the left on the back porch creaked dully. He’d lived in that house his whole life and that board only creaked when someone stepped on it. He opened his groggy eyes and saw River still nestled between Dean’s flannel clad arms, their chests rising and falling almost in synch. He grabbed the shotgun next to his desk and stealthily made his way to the window. Instead of seeing an intruder he saw the retreating shadow of someone so tall and lanky it could only be the person that was supposed to be chained up in his basement. He avoided the third board from the left as he stepped off his porch, followed the shadow into his graveyard of junk cars, dodged the wires he had placed here and there to alert him of any interlopers on his property. “What are you doin’ son?” He cocked the shotgun and trained it on Sam’s back.

Sam slowly turned to face his surrogate father, arms raised. “I’m leaving Bobby.”

“I can’t let you do that. We are trying to help you!” Bobby pleaded.

“You’re not gonna shoot me Bobby. Put the gun down and let me leave,” Sam took a few steps forward. Close enough that he could wrap his giant hands along the barrel of the shotgun still pointed at him.

“I will if I have to son. I can’t let you do this.”

“You’re not gonna shoot me,” Sam repeated, “You can’t.” Before Bobby could react, Sam used his grip on the barrel of the shot gun to wrench it out of his hands then jabbed the butt of the gun back hitting him on the right side of his face. Bobby let out a startled grunt before he collapsed onto the hard ground. 

“How the shit did he get out?” River muttered angrily watching as Dean tested the solid iron bolt and swung the heavy door open.

“I don’t know. Demon traps are all busted,” Bobby said looking down at the scorched paint markings on the floor. He sported an ugly purple bruise and a slight concussion brought on by Sam’s assault.

“You think Ruby could do this? I didn’t think that skinny bitch had the mojo,” River said raising her eyebrows and looking back at Dean.

“I don’t know. Maybe?” Dean checked the inside of the door, “How’d she even touch the door long enough to unlock it?” 

River shook her head unknowing, “Gods, I want to murder that black eyed slut.”

“Well, that makes two of us. Come on,” Dean said holding his hand for her. 

She grabbed his hand smiling as he led her away from the panic room, “Finally. I’ve been really thinking about this…it’s kind of been an unhealthy thought process actually. Helps pass long trips in the car: How would I kill Ruby? So many ways, Dean. There are so many ways. I just want to beat the shit out of her first, we can tie her to chair and beat her like a piñata or put her in a demon trap and pelt her with holy water filled water balloons. That ones been my personal favorite lately…”

“Hey wait a minute!” Bobby yelled after them. They turned back towards Bobby. “I thought you were on call for Angel duty.”

“Yeah, well I can be on call while we’re driving to go gank Ruby,” Dean answered.

“Sam doesn’t want to be found, son. It ain’t gonna be that easy.”

Dean and River shared a look. “You tell Sam about the charms in your boots?”

“Yeah…shit,” Dean answered. “I guess we’ll just have to wait for him to mess up.”

Bobby knew which car Sam had stolen from him and started making phone calls to see if had been abandoned yet. Dean and River retreated to the quiet of the junkyard. River using the sturdy green cooler as makeshift seat, her laptop open. She searched through traffic cameras, trying to track Sam’s movement but it quickly became apparent he abandoned the highway as soon as possible. She closed her laptop and watched Dean as bent over Baby’s engine, cleaning and checking it. Keeping his hands busy and his mind clear. “I can feel your eyes on my ass,” Deans snarky voice shot out from under Baby’s hood. He didn’t spare a glance over his shoulder as River laughed. She had indeed been checking out his ass, his jeans hugging his muscled legs in all the right places and from her angle, even wearing three plus layers of flannel, denim and a heavy military green jacket he looked fucking amazing.

“What can I say, Winchester? You have a nice ass,” she laughed again.

“You know there’s more to me than a nice ass,” he said turning around and wiping his hands on his shop rag.

“Yeah you have that big, dweeby brain that you keep hidden behind a pretty face.” River said looking over her shoulder as the crunch of gravel signaled Bobby’s appearance.

“Police found my car, abandoned in Jamestown, North Dakota,” he said as he ambled up to them. River stood and tucked her laptop into her duffle bag. 

Dean carefully closed Baby’s hood, “Any cars go missing in Jamestown?”

Bobby nodded, “Two. A ’99 Blue Honda Civic nice and nondescript just like Sam likes.”

“What was the other one?” River asked.

“The other was a 2012 White Escalade with custom rims. It’d be like driving a giant neon sign.” Bobby laughed at the mental image of the big stupid car.

“You’re right Sam would never take that car. Which is exactly why he did.” Dean answered firmly.

“You got the license plate?” River asked Bobby.

“Yea ‘course, you really think that could be him?”

“Yeah. Ok, Bobby you stay here ride the police databases, Princess you check the cameras see if we can track him.” River nodded, gave Bobby a quick squeeze and peck on the cheek and slid into the front seat of the Impala. “We need to find him quick.” Their plan set, Dean and River hit the road. With a new car Sam had apparently been less cautious about using highways, they were able to track the Escalades progression through North Dakota then back down to Minnesota. They made it to Minnesota and the trail went cold, Sam had ditched the car somewhere off the 94.

“Hey Papa Bear, you got any leads? Traffic cams are cold.” River called Bobby once they reached the last exit the Escalade had pinged on a traffic camera. Dean had stopped for gas and food and was currently making his way back to the car laden with burgers and fries.

“Yeah, police found the car in a ditch outside of place called Elk River” Bobby said scanning through the police report. 

River turned the phone to speaker so Dean could listen in and typed the towns name quickly into her lap top, thankful for the WIFI at the burger joint they were parked outside of. “We’re a couple hours from there, probably make it around dawn.”

“Hmmm good. Well theres a little town about 50 miles outside of Elk River by the name of Coldsprings. It’s lighting up with demon signs. Lightening storms, flash floods, usual nonsense.”

Dean pulled out River’s veggie burger and made a disgusted face before handing it to her. “Sounds like a good place to check.” He said between bites of his double bacon cheese burger.

“Listen you two,” Bobby continued, “This is about gettin’ Sam back. Not pushin’ him away.”

Dean took another angry bite of his burger and rolled his eyes. “We’re gonna try Bobby. He’s not thinking right, we’re going to do what we can to get him home.” River said gently while looking pointedly at Dean’s stubborn face.

“You got to get through to him.”

“Call ya’ later Bobby,” Dean reached over and snapped River’s phone shut. 

She let out a long breath, “I know you’re mad. But he’s sick and he’s not thinking straight and he needs you probably more than he’s ever needed you.”

Dean started the engine, “Can you put on Zep’s II?” River nodded and pulled Dean’s box of cassettes out from under her seat, thumbing through the tapes until she found his requested album. The music drifted out from the speakers and River searched through Coldsprings list of motels.

“So theres about a half dozen motels that are in our usual price range,” she said after about an hour of brooding silence from Dean’s side of the front seat. “And one ‘boutique’ hotel, whatever the fuck that is, ‘The Aurora Borealis’ ” she rolled her eyes, “They definitely have little bottles of shampoo.”

Dean smirked and looked across the seat at her, “He’s at that one.”

“Figured. It’s got thirty regular rooms and two Honeymoon suites,” she said scrolling through the boutique hotels website. They drove past the Hotel an hour or so later. Dean pulled the Impala into a dark alley and they got out into the predawn morning. Dean opened the trunk of the car and they grabbed weapons. He pulled out the demon knife tucking it into his belt. River grabbed a few vials of holy water, salt, and a small iron chain.

“What are you gonna do with that?” Dean asked sliding the clip out of his gun to double checking it was full. 

River smiled and wrapped the chain around her fist, “Gonna break her cute little cheekbones.”

“You’ve really thought about this,” Dean said raising his eyebrows. River shrugged her shoulders and tucked her own gun into the back of her jeans. “When this is done, if you want to stay at some douchebag hotel like this- I’ll get us a room.”

“It’ll never be done, hot stuff. But thanks anyways,” she pulled him down for a kiss. “I’d rather just screw in the backseat anyways.” 

They found the loading dock to the Hotel and snuck inside unseen. River had found a room map to the hotel on a visitor review site and the Honeymoon Suites were on the third floor. They took the stairwell up and waited on opposite ends the deserted hallway each stationed outside one of the Honeymoon suites listening and watching for any signs of Sam or Ruby. River shifted on her feet tiredly, pulled her black beanie further down over her ears rolled her neck impatiently waiting for some sign strike. She stiffened when a door creaked down the hall, she shifted back into the shadows and looked at the shitty watercolor painting on the opposite wall. The shiny glass frame provided a reflection of the hall and she saw Sam’s giant form streak past then heard the ‘ding’ of the elevator. She waited two breaths and heard the faint rustle of Dean’s jacket as he snuck into the room. River hurried silently down the hallway and had her hand on the doorknob when the elevator dinged again. “River?” Sam called her name and she muttered ‘fuck’ under her breath.

She turned on her heels and stood as tall as she could, Sam still towering almost a foot over her. “Sam.” She answered bracing herself in front of the door and the flannel clad mountain in front of her.

“Where’s Dean?” he asked taking a step towards her.

“Front desk, asking for more of those little chocolate mints they put on your pillows.” A grunt of pain and a thud echoed from the room behind them and Sam shot forward. “Fuck off, string bean,” River hissed pushing against Sam’s solid chest. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Sam growled down at her.

“Then stand down, Sam. We are here for you, we love you, we are your family.” Another thud, Ruby screamed something. Sam swatted River to the side and she landed heavily on her side on the floor. Sam surged through the door and there was more muffled sounds of a struggle as River clambered back to her feet and ran in after him.

“Dean, stop it! Leave her alone!” Sam yelled into his brothers face. Dean panted heavily, the demon knife now gripped in one of Sam’s huge hands.

“Man, you two must’ve been havin’ a hell of party seeing as how hard you tried to keep my from crashing it!” Dean retorted.

Sam took a deep breath, “I am glad you are here. Both of you. Please, lets just talk about this.”

“When she’s dead we can talk all you want,” Dean answered.

“Ruby get out of here,” Sam said over his shoulder to the brunette demon. 

Ruby took a step away and River moved back in front of the door. “Nuh-huh, she’s not going anywhere Sam.” Ruby glared at the red head letting her black eyes shine.

“She is on our side guys. She is helping me get strong enough to kill Lilith. She has put her neck on the line more times than I can count to keep tabs on that bitch.”

“Bullshit, Sam. She’s on her own god damn side. She’s had her claws in both of you for so fucking long. She lied to you, lied to us about saving Dean from the pit. She spat lie after lie, she pushed us apart before. And now this? Getting you cracked out on her blood. You are so dead you evil fucking cunt.”

“You touch her and-“

“And what Sammy? What are you gonna do, huh? You gonna kill River over that demon slut?”

Sam took a deep breath and clenched his fists, one hand still clinging to the demon blade, “Ruby has a lead on a demon in Lilith’s inner circle. Lets go after the demon together then we can finally find Lilith and end this.” He looked between his brother and River, the later still staring down the demon.

“Fine. The three of us. The demons a deal breaker,” Dean said.

“You stupid assholes. I’ve been preparing Sam for this since before your ass was hellhound bait. We are so close you are not gonna get in the way!” Ruby yelled.

Dean took a menacing step towards the demon, Sam moved to block his way. “I am the only one that can do this Dean. You’re not strong enough!”

“He has been strong enough to look after you since he was four year old! Strong enough to make it back from hell in one fucking piece! Don’t you see what she’s done to you? She kept you away from me when I needed you, when we needed each other! She’s made you turn your back on your family!” River yelled flinging her hand towards Ruby.

“You are not my family!” Sam roared back. River cocked her head to the side and nodded, angry tears falling from the corners of her eyes. Ruby smirked again.

“Sam, listen to yourself! This is not you! You have no idea what you are doing,” Dean said quietly.

“I know exactly what I am doing.” He answered.

Rivers dark blue eyes darted to Deans face, her hand slipping into her jacket pocket where she stashed the iron chain and she shifted her gaze back to Ruby, “I have been waiting so god damn long for this.” She sent her size 10 booted foot into Ruby’s midsection, the kick catching the demon off guard. The smaller woman doubled over with and ‘oof’. Sam grabbed for Rivers jacket but was caught by Dean. Dean shoved his brother into the wall, holding him back. 

“Sam, stop this. Stop fighting us! If you do this that means-“ Dean held his arm tensely across Sam struggling torso. 

“Means what, Dean? Say it!”

“It means you’re a monster!” Dean yelled. Sam pushed himself away from the wall, one huge fist connecting with Deans jaw. The older Winchester staggered back taking a deep breath. The flood gates opened and the brothers collided in the middle of the room, walls and furniture destroyed as they struggled against each other. 

River wrapped the chain around her fist and slammed it into Ruby face. The iron doing double damage to the demon, her skin beginning to smoke and sizzle where it connected. The hunter sent a flurry of quick jabs into Ruby, the demon struggled backwards, lost her footing and tumbled to the floor. River jumped on her chest, holding the struggling demons arms down with her knees, she untangled the iron chain from her fist and draped it across Ruby’s throat. The skin immediately smoking and bubbling from contact with the metal. “Bet you don’t have a lot of friends down in the pit, huh? Be a shame to lose this pretty vessel Sam’s so attached to.” She pulled a flask of holy water out of her jacket and spilled some on the demons face. Ruby screamed and struggled against the chain. River was dimly aware of the brothers fight behind her, grunts, cursing and glass shattering. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica,” River sprinkled more holy water on the demon. Another crash and a groan, River recognized the octave as coming from Dean’s throat and not Sam’s.

Ruby grunted in pain, “SA-SAM! HELP!” 

River sent another fist into her jaw causing the demons head to knock to the side, “Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te...cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare...Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis…” Ruby started convulsing, her head shaking back and forth in pain. A rage filled growl thundered in River’s ears , she barely had time to turn her head and meet Sam’s blazing hazel eyes before he yanked her off the demon. One giant fist slammed into her left cheek and River had instant sympathy for the ‘Rock’em-Sock’em Robots’ she had played with as a child with her brother. Pain bloomed on the left side of her face and she felt the sadly familiar calling of unconsciousness tugging at her senses. Sam used every ounce of his giant frame to lift River off her feet and sent her flying across the room where she slammed into a very serene painting of a field of wildflowers then landed on the floor behind the couch in a painful heap. Sam then pulled the iron chain off Ruby. She weakly held out one hand and he pulled her to her feet.

“Go! Get out of here! I’ll meet you,” Sam promised. Dean groaned in pain, slowly regaining consciousness and sat up on his elbows. He watched as Ruby limped out the door. Sam glared down at the bleeding face of his older brother. In an instant he was back on top of him, this time his colossal hands encircling Dean’s throat. He squeezed just hard and long enough for Dean to get the message- the fight was over. Sam sneered down at his brother, “You don’t know me. You never did. You never will.” He stood up and walked towards the door.

Dean coughed painfully, dragging in air, “You walk out that door- don’t you ever come back!” Sam exhaled and shut the door gently as he left. Dean groaned taking in another painful breath. “Baby?” he called. No answer, he struggled up. “River?”

“Mmm-here,” River’s slurred voice came quietly from behind the turned over couch.

“You ok?” Dean made the painful trek across the room.

“Mmm-shiny captain,” she answered. Dean found her laying on her back, one hand gently prodding the maroon bruise that already took up most of her left cheek and jaw. “I think my ass is broken,” she moaned as Dean helped her to stand. 

“You know the drill, Princess. Can you make it back to the car? Five-ohs probably almost here.” They leaned on each other and somehow miraculously made it back out the way they came. River gingerly removed her jacket once they got back to Baby. She felt like one giant, concussed bruise. Five minutes after the last Black and White zoomed past them, lights and sirens blazing, Dean got the car back on the road.

“That room was really nice though,” River said after a few minutes of silence. “Bet they have good room service.” Dean turned his head painfully towards her, she smiled then grimaced as the movement made the swelling on her face pang angrily.


	32. chapter 32

Ch 32

“Earth to Dean, come in Winchester,” River waived her hand in front of Dean’s face several times. He stared unfocused out of the grimy window in Bobby’s sitting room. Powder soft snow flakes were drifting lazily down from the heavens, clinging to the dead branches of the tree in front of the window. “Are you even listening to anything we’ve been saying?” Dean blinked several times, turning his jade eyes away from the window.

“Yeah, I’m listening. What were we talking about?” He turned to face River and Bobby. River sighed and walked away from him.

“Jesus Christ, Bobby, he’s all yours I need a drink.” She sighed walking into the kitchen. Dean heard the angry slam of Bobby’s refrigerator a second later and a loud ‘pop’ as the seal on a bottle of beer was opened.

“Sam, ya’ idjit. We were discussing the phone call you need to be making about now.” Bobby said.

“I’m not calling him, Bobby. I ain’t doin’ it,” Dean said remembering the argument they had been in the middle of.

“I’m not making apologies for what he did. But he’s your-“

“Blood? Is that what you’re gonna say? ‘Cause he’s my blood?” Dean answered shaking his head. 

“He’s your brother and he is drowning,” Bobby said gently.

Dean shook his head, “I tried to help him, Bobby. Look what happened? He beat the shit outta me, beat the shit outta River.” River returned and handed Dean a bottle of his favorite beer. The giant fist sized bruise on her face had faded to an ugly shade of yellow and green. “I’m not goin’ through this with him again,” he said looking down into River’s bright blue eyes.

“What are you talking about, son?” Bobby gruffed.

“He never wanted to be a part of this family, Bobby. He left for Stanford the first chance he got. Ditched me and dad in the middle of the night…This is deja vu all over again. I’m done chasing him. I got all the family I need right here.” He sat down heavily on the sagging couch loosely clutching the beer in his hand. 

“Dean, baby, you don’t mean that anymore then Sam meant any of the things he said to us,” River sat next to him, “He’s your brother. Nothing is going to change that.”

“No, screw him. I’m done. He’s not my brother anymore. I don’t know if he ever was,” Dean passed the bottle back to River, the smell of the alcohol turning his stomach. Bobby drew a loud, angry breath through his nose and turned towards his cluttered desk. The older man let out an angry yell and swiped his arms across the desk sending books and papers falling to the floor then stalked aggressively towards Dean. The younger hunter stood back up warily.

“You know what? Boo hoo! I’m sorry your feelings are hurt princess!” Bobby yelled at him. “Are you under the impression that family is supposed to make you feel good! Maybe bake you an apple pie?”

“Bobby-“ Dean started.

Bobby raised his voice to drown out Dean’s half hearted interruption, “Family is supposed to make you miserable! Thats why they’re family!”

“Bobby, I told him if he walked out that door he better not come back and he walked out!” Dean yelled back, brushing past Bobby to put some distance between himself and the older man.

“You sound like a whiny brat!” Bobby spat. “No, you sound like your dad! Let me tell you something, your dad was a coward!”

Dean spun on his heels the reflexive need to defend his father taking precedent over his anger as Sam, “My father was a lot things, Bobby, but he was not a coward.”

Bobby stood his ground, “Your father pushed Sam away instead of trying to reach out to him. That don’t strike me as very brave.” He took a shaky breath, willing his voice not to crack, “You are a better man than your daddy ever was.” Dean rolled his eyes. His self loathing and the persistent feelings of inadequacy had ratcheted up to an all time high. His father may have been a bastard but he didn’t start the apocalypse, he didn’t lose his youngest son to a demon slut. “Do us all a favor and don’t be him.” Bobby quietly added. 

Dean shook his head and turned to look at River. The sagging couch was empty. He opened his mouth to call for her turning to look into the kitchen. Except the kitchen was gone. All of Bobby’s sitting room was gone. Instead he found himself in an ornately decorated room. The walls a pristine glossy white with bronze colored crown molding (‘I need to lay off the HGTV’ he thought disgustedly) and several old and expensive looking paintings hung on the wall. “What the hell?” he muttered closing his eyes.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel’s familiar gravelly voice sounded behind him. “It’s almost time.”  
****  
River shivered in her sleep pushing her ass back searching for Dean’s warmth. She groggily opened her eyes to small slits, the motel room still dark, her eyes too blurry to focus on the iridescent clock on the nightstand next to her. She patted the bed behind her finding it completely void of the giant warm snuggling octopus she had gone to bed with. “Baby?” she called climbing out of bed. Her eyes settled on the closed bathroom door and she knocked quietly. Dean had more than once locked himself in the bathroom for a semblance of privacy after a particularly bad nightmare. Usually if the dreams got too bad River woke with him and waited for him to come back to bed. The bathroom was empty except for their toothbrushes laying next to each other on the chipped countertop. She caught her reflection in the mirror over the sink, half her face swollen and bruised from Sam’s attack. Her heart started to beat faster as she scanned their empty room.

Deans jacket was gone from the back of the chair near the door, the Impalas keys were however still sitting in the middle of the table. She slipped her boots on over her bare feet and grabbed her gun from under her pillow. Heedless of wearing nothing but the long ‘Pink Floyd’ shirt she had fallen asleep in she headed to the dark parking lot. She did a quick perimeter check and found nothing exceptional out of the ordinary before returning to her empty room. “God damn it. Where the hell did you go?” she muttered angrily calling Dean’s phone. She paced the small room as the phone rang. ‘You’ve reached Dean’s phone you know what to do.’ River sighed caught somewhere between anger and panic, “Where the fuck are you?” She hung up and left a similar message on his other three numbers. River set the phone down on the table and finished getting dressed. 

***  
“Hello, Dean. You’re looking fit,” the smug angel Zachariah appeared in the room next to Cas. Castiel dipped his head quickly and crossed his hands behind his back. 

“Of course,” Dean muttered. “You kidnapped me while I was sleeping, right?”

Zachariah gave Dean a thin smile, “Well, it’s so much easier if you don’t cause a scene. I didn’t want to wake your companion, she sure looked like she needed the rest.”

“Where the hell am I? What is this place?”

The Angel stepped forward waving his hands around the opulent room, “This? Consider this a Green Room. We’ve brought you here to protect you. It’s almost showtime and we need you in tip top shape for the grand finale.” Castiel shifted uncomfortably on his feet, blue eyes darting between Dean and Zachariah.

*****

“Listen to me idjit, this better be a big damn emergency to be callin’ me this early!” Bobby grumbled still half drunk from the night before.

“Bobby? You heard from Dean?” River said, ignoring Bobby’s surliness and kicking the motel room door shut behind her. She balanced her phone on her shoulder, her arms laden with maps, jars of ingredients and candles. She dumped the contents onto the table and began sorting through them, organizing them by spell.

“What? No, sweetheart. I thought you two stopped for the night.” Bobby’s voice suddenly softer and a shade more sober.

“We did. Went to bed together. I just woke up and he’s gone. The car’s still here,” She adjusted the phone on her shoulder and heard Bobby curse, “He didn’t leave on his own Bobby. He would’ve taken the car…Shit. I gotta go Papa Bear.” She ended the call before letting Bobby voice his concern and tucked the phone into her back pocket. She unrolled a piece of parchment on the table and began her tracking spell.

****  
“Have some refreshments.” A platter of cheeseburgers and a giant bucket full of ice cold beers appeared on the table in the center of the room. “These are your favorite; I believe from that seaside shack when you were 11.” He held a burger out to Dean.

Dean’s stomach growled audibly but he turned away from the Angel. “I’m not hungry.”

”No? How about something else to help pass the time? Ginger from season 2 of ‘Giligan’s Island’?” Zachariah asked raising his eyebrows. “You have a thing for her right?”

“Yes. I mean no, no! Don’t do that!” Dean stuttered.

“Wrong red head? How about this one?” Zachariah snapped his fingers. River muttered the last word of the incantation and ran the match she held between her fingers along the rough surface of the matchbox. The flame caught glowing a bright orange, she blinked and when she opened her eyes she found herself in a bright room. Standing across from Dean who stared back at her with wide eyes.

“What the shit?” River asked dropping the match before it burned her fingers. “Dean? Cas?…Who the fuck are you?” Her eyes darted around the room quickly taking inventory of her new surroundings.

“I’m Zachariah, pleasure to finally meet you in person. Honestly, I feel like I already know you having picked through Dean’s subconscious.” Zachariah gave her an oily smile. “The things he has filed away in that brain of his. Like that little sound you make when he uses his tongue-“ River darted to the table, grabbed a bottle of beer and sent it flying towards Zachariah’s face. The beer bottle disappeared mid flight and the Angel gave her a condescending smile. “You’re a guest here, young lady. I expect you to behave with some decorum.”

“Eat a dick.” River retorted, “You’re the asshat that shoved us in Mad Men, right? Had Mr. Wesson here ordering rice milk lattes and seaweed smoothies. Why are you with this ass-clown, Cas?” She chucked another beer at Zachariah’s stupid face. 

Zachariah sighed. “Castiel, if you would be so kind.” Castiel stiffened and looked towards River. In an instant he crossed the room and stood in front of her.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Cas!” she threatened. Castiel wrapped his hand around her upper arm and before she could yank it out of his grip they landed in the front seat of the Impala. “Son of a bitch!” she screamed slamming her fists on the steering wheel. The car, herself and the Angel now appeared to be in front of Bobby’s house. “What the fuck is going on?” she yelled.

Castiel let out a long breath, “I’m sorry.”

“Take me back to Dean.”

“I can’t.”

“No, you won’t. That’s a big fucking difference.” River slammed her hands into the steering wheel again, “What did they do to you? You were our friend…you saved Dean. You saved me. Why are yo doing this?”

“I have my orders.”

“You went against orders before. Please just tell me whats going on,” she reached across the seated squeezed his hand. The Angel looked down at her hand, she let go of his fingers and shook her head angrily.

Castiel caught her retreating hand and grasped it firmly. He slowly turned to face her, “The last seal is falling tomorrow night. The end is upon us.”

“So how do we fucking stop it?” River demanded.

“I’m sorry. I have my orders.” Castiel disappeared from the front seat and River let a frustrated scream. Bobby ambled onto his porch holding a steaming cup of coffee staring dumbfounded at the car that should still be a few hundred miles away. River climbed out of the car and carefully closed the door behind her. 

The older man walked down the steps and headed towards her, “How the hell did you get here so fast?”

***  
“I might let her come back if she cools down a bit,” Zachariah told Dean. Cas reappeared behind Zachariah his brow furrowed and avoiding Dean’s eyes.

Dean ran his hands through his hair, “That was her cooled down. Can we just bail on the holodeck? I wanna know what the game plan is.”

“Let us worry about that,” Zachariah told him, “We want you focused, relaxed.”  
“Well, Chuckles, I’m about to be pissed and leaving. So start talking.” Dean growled.

Zachariah sighed and began walking slowly around the room, stopping to admire the Ming Dynasty Vase that sat on an ornate cabinet from Versailles. “All the seals have fallen. All except one.”

Dean whistled, “Wow thats an impressive score. Right up there with the Cleveland Browns.”

“Sarcasm, such a…human response,” Zachariah clapped Dean on the shoulder as he walked past him, heading for the door where Cas still stood guard, “The last seal is different.”

“Ok I’ll bite: why is it different?” Dean sighed, tired of the angelic douches spiel.

The Angel turned to face the hunter, his smug face driving Dean insane, “Lilith has to break it. She’s the only one that can. She’s planning on doing it tomorrow night- midnight to be exact.”

“Ok, where?” Dean demanded.

“We don’t know but I assure you we’re working on it.”

“Well work harder!” Dean yelled.

“We’ll do our job, Dean. Just make sure you do yours when the time comes.” Zachariah replied.

“Yeah, my job is stop Lilith right? How? With the knife?”

Zachariah took a calculated step towards him, “All in good time.”

“Isn’t now a good time. The end being nigh and all?”

“Have faith, Dean.” Zachariah countered with another smug smile.

“What? In you? Why should I?”

“Because you swore your obedience. So obey,” Zachariah said coldly. Dean looked over his shoulder and briefly met Cas’s shame filled eyes before the trench coated angel bowed his head.

***

At an abandoned farm house in the middle of nowhere Oklahoma, Sam was busy torturing a demon that held the high distinction of being Lilith’s personal chef. Ruby looked on smiling as the other demon screamed and writhed in pain. Sam was strong enough now to hold the demon without the aid of a devils trap. “I can keep this up as long as we need to…or you can tell me where Lilith is and I’ll kill you quick,” Sam told the crying demon quietly. The demon was currently wearing a NICU nurse and had been using the position to ‘procure’ dinner aka newborn babies for Lilith’s feast. Sam and Ruby had caught the demon attempting to wheel a baby right out of the hospitals loading dock. The demon took too long to answer and Sam reached out with his psychic powers, the pain that flowed through the demon felt like her blood had been replaced with holy water.

“Please…please stop! I’ll tell you. Just please let me die,” she sobbed. “Tomorrow night…midnight. She’ll be at St. Mary’s Convent in Ilchester, Maryland.” Ruby smiled up at Sam. 

****  
River paced circles in Bobby’s kitchen. She’d used every tracking spell she knew, tried a scrying board and even called a psychic hotline and she had no leads on where the angels were keeping Dean. “This ain’t helpin’ anybody sweet heart. Why don’t you just sit for a minute?”

“No. No. God damn it. We are running out of time. None of this is right, Bobby.” She swiped the tarot cards she had been attempting to read off the kitchen counter. “I need to make a phone call.”

“You already tried that.” Bobby said gently.

“I’m goin’ outside. Just give me a few minutes,” she stormed out of the house and raced down the steps pulling out her phone. She found Gabriels number and punched it in, “You better fucking answer.” The phone rang twice before it switched to an automatic message, ‘I am sorry but the number you have reached is no longer in service-‘. River pulled the phone away from her ear with a frustrated growl. “You son of a bitch! You fucking coward! I need your god damn help!” she screamed at the pre-recorded voice. 

Back in the Angelic Green Room, Dean paced restlessly. Zach and Cas had left him alone hours ago. He had even broken down and called Sam, leaving him a message when his brother didn’t answer. He pleaded once more with him to stand down, come home and they would figure out their next step together. Everything in the bright, garish room was getting on his last nerve. Especially the stupid porcelain angel statue on the table next to him. He knocked the statue off the table and enjoyed the noise it made as it shattered. “You wanted to see me?” Castiel appeared before Dean a disapproving frown on his face as he looked at the broken statue on the floor. 

“Yeah, uh,” Dean smiled nervously a slight blush making the freckles on his nose stand out as he tried to sweep the shards of broken angel under the nearest table with his boot. “I need something.”

Castiel smiled, “Anything you wish.”

“I need to see Sam.”

The Angel stopped smiling, “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“I didn’t ask for your damn opinion. I want to see my brother.” Dean said taking a step towards the Angel.

Castiel shifted on his feet, glancing around the room as if checking for eavesdroppers. “Have you already forgotten how your last meeting went?”

“No. That’s what I want to see him about. I need to tie this one thing up. Ok? Then I’ll be a good little soldier and fall in line.”

“No.” Castiel answered firmly.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, “What do you mean ‘no’? Am I trapped here?”

“Of course not. You can go wherever you want,” the Angel answered.

“Fantastic. I wanna go see Sam.”

Castiel sighed, “Except there.”

Dean closed his eyes and shook his head, “Fine I want to see River.”

“I’ll bring her here,” Castiel offered turning back towards the door.

“No, Cas, I want you to take me to her,” Dean clarified.

“Why?”

“Because I want to fuck her on the hood of my car. Come on, times a-wastin’.” Dean walked towards the door.

“I can’t let you go alone. If you want her, I will bring her here,” Castiel said again.

Dean shook his head turning back towards the Angel, “I knew it. Fuck this noise. I’m outta here.”

“Through what door?” Castiel taunted. Dean quickly turned back towards the door to find it gone, replaced by another wall and another porcelain angel statue. He spun back around to yell at Castiel and found himself alone again. Hours passed in solitude. Dean was beginning to regret turning down the entertainment Zachariah had offered. So he broke every stupid statue and priceless vase in the room. He picked up a candlestick and was going to throw it across the room, the weight of the candlestick caught him by surprise and he turned towards the wall. He hammered the edge into the wall, chunks of plaster falling away and leaving a small hole. Dean smiled triumphantly and raised the candlestick for another assault when the wall suddenly became whole again. He blinked in disbelief and ran his fingers over the unmarred surface, “Son of a bitch.”

“Stop throwing feces like a howler monkey,” Zachariah condescended. Dean tossed the heavy candlestick on the wood floor.

“I want outta here. I want to see my brother,” Dean demanded.

“That’s ill-advised.” The Angel shook his head and crinkled his nose.

“You know what? I am so sick of your stupid, fat, smug face. I am sick of getting crumbs. What the hell is going on, huh?” Dean yelled. Zachariah for once looked uncomfortable, he shifted his shoulders nervously. “Why can’t I see my brother? How am I gonna gank Lilith?”

Zachariah let out a long suffering sigh, “You’re not-going to ‘gank’ Lilith.”

Dean’s green eyes widened, “What?”

“Lilith is going to break the final seal. Trains left the station, the ship has sailed, Elvis has left the building, et cetera.” Self-satisfied smile plastered to his face as he sat proudly on the upholstered Divan. 

“But…me and Sam we can stop it,” Dean shook his head, the last several months of Angelic bullshit crumbling. “You don’t want to stop the Apocalypse.”

Zachariah smiled broadly, “Never did! The end is nigh, kiddo.”

“All the crap about saving the seals?” 

“We needed something to keep the grunts on the ground distracted. We couldn’t just tell them the whole truth. It would’ve been chaos.”

“But Cas? You tried to have him killed?” Deans hands clenched and unclenched, he felt a thin sheen of sweat break out on his upper lip. 

The Angel nodded serenely, “We were afraid Castiel was becoming too attached to his charge. He was beginning to question things way above his station. But then wowza!” Zachariah raised his fists triumphantly, “The way he handled that bitch Adhira and her little party. I remembered why Castiel had climbed the ranks so quickly in the first place. He is a very determined warrior, one of our most decorated Captains. I knew with the right…guidance he could see reason. We’re going to need skilled soldiers such as Castiel in the fight to come.”

“When the apocalypse happens? I haven’t read much of the Bible but I get the gist of Revelations and it doesn’t sound too great.” Dean said.

“I know how it sounds. ‘The Apocalypse’, ‘Armageddon’, the Great Cataclysm. It’s all just bad marketing,” Zachariah saccharine voice was beginning to grate on Dean. “What it really is going to be, when our side wins because we will win, is paradise on Earth.”

“What happens to all the millions of people that are gonna be caught in your little pissing contest?”

“Dean! Enough, lets not dwell on minor unpleasantness-“

“River and Bobby are find a way to bust me out of here,” Dean said. 

“River, that foul mouthed, mentally uncorked, grace thief. And Bobby Singer, the mans more alcohol than human at this point. I’d get better friends if I were you.” 

“Grace thief? Fuck you, you sanctimonious piece of shit,” Dean growled, “Sam’s gonna stop Lilith, he won’t go down without a fight.”

“Ah, yes. Sam. Don’t worry about him. He has his own part to play. He might just need a little motivation and I can be very motivating.” Zachariah smiled.

“What does that mean? What are you gonna do to Sam?”

Zachariah grasped Dean around the shoulder again, “Will you just stop worrying about Sam for five minutes? This about destiny, Dean. Your destiny. You are important to us, to everything. You will stop IT just not Lilith or the Apocalypse.”

“Stop! Just stop with the riddles and the half truths,” the hunter grumbled, “Just tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

“You are going to stop Lucifer,” The Angels face lit up with a true smile, the smile of a zealot. “And when you win, oh Dean! Your rewards will be innumerable. Now rest, relax. One day we’ll look back on this and have a hell of a laugh.” Zachariah sighed happily and disappeared from the room leaving Dean to ruminate over the Angels betrayal. 

He pulled out his phone and tried calling his brother again, the phone beeped insolently in his ear. “Son of a-“ he held the phone out in front of him, waiving his arm back and forth looking for a connection.

“You can’t reach him Dean. You’re out of your coverage area,” Castiel told him appearing in the room. Dean put the phone back in his pocket and turned to face the Angel. He couldn’t tell if that was Cas’s attempt at a joke or if he was being serious.

“What are you gonna do to Sam?” Dean asked.

Castiel took a deep breath and walked around the room, the vases and statues that Dean had taken a modicum of enjoyment in destroying were back in their original forms. “Nothing. We are going to do nothing to your brother. Sam is going to do it to himself.”

“What does that mean?” Dean grunted. Castiel shifted on his feet, turning his head from Dean to avoid his angry green eyes. His jaw tightened, afraid he said too much but also knowing there was no one eavesdropping. Zachariah had left for the time, called away for some last minute self-congratulatory meeting. Dean smiled wryly, “Right. Right. Good little cookie cutter Cas, toeing the company line. Why are you here?”

The Angel met Deans eyes, remembering the broken shell that had begged for death. “We’ve been through much together, you and I.” He remembered Dean’s defiance towards Uriel and his stubborn refusal to abandon the citizens in that small town. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry it had to end like this.”

“Sorry?” Dean scoffed. He pulled his right arm back and sent it slamming into the Angel’s jaw. Cas’s head swiveled stiffly on his neck; the Angel gave no sign the impact had caused him even the tinies bit of pain. Dean, on the other hand, drew in a sharp breath and turned his back on Castiel to hide the grimace of pain that tore across his face. He gingerly flexed his fingers to test that he hadn’t broken anything when he connected with the Angel’s Adamantium jaw. “It’s Armageddon, Cas,” he groaned, not quite masking the throb of pain that shot up his wrist. “Sorry’s not gonna cut it.”

“Dean, please understand. This is long foretold. It is-“ Castiel sighed, the words losing meaning as he stared at Dean.

“Destiny? Come one Cas! Cut the angelic bedtime story crap. It’s Prophecy, God’s Plan? It’s all a lie, Cas, you poor, stupid son of a bitch. It’s a lie to keep us in line, to keep you bastards in line.” Dean squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I was ok going to the Pit you know that? It was between me and Sammy and I choose him. He had a chance to be…more.” Dean’s jaw tightened. “And then I met River. She was fucked up and I was fucked up and we were fucked up together and I was still ok with dying. Until I realized that I wasn’t ok with going to the Pit because maybe just maybe I could be more too. When we were in that god damn doctors office and I heard my sons heartbeats for the first time I thought ‘this right here is what it’s all been about, all the fighting, the blood, the pain, it’s for them. They’re gonna have a chance’. That was real. People having something to fight for, to protect, to call their own. Families. That’s what matters. And your just gonna watch it all burn.”

“No, Dean. All I see here is pain. All I see in you is your pain, your guilt, your anger, your confusion. In Paradise all is forgiven. You will be at peace. River will be at peace. Even Sam. No more pain. No more fear or nightmares or anger.” Castiel said.

Dean ran his fingers through his hair, “Take your peace and shove it up your lily white ass. I’ll take the pain, the guilt. River crying in the shower, Bobby drinking himself to an early grave, I’ll even take Sam as is because that is real. They are worth fighting for.”

“You don’t understand-“ Castiel snapped.

“No, you’re the one that doesn’t understand! Enough with the good little soldier crap. There is right and wrong and this? This is wrong, Cas!” Dean yelled. “You were gonna help me once. This is what you were gonna warn us about, isn’t it? After the shit that went down in LA? After they betrayed you, tried to get you and River killed. You went home to find answers and you found ‘em and didn’t like ‘em and you were going to help us.” Dean grabbed the Angel by the shoulders and pulled him close, “Help us now. Please!”

Castiel looked down at Dean’s hands, “What would you have me do?”

“Get me to Sam, help us stop Lilith!”

“If we do this, we will be hunted to the ends of the Earth. We will all die.” Castiel shook his head. 

“If there has ever been anything worth fighting for it’s this!” Dean pleaded. 

Bobby had given up trying to coax River to come back inside. She stayed in the front seat of the Impala and watched the sun set. The last eighteen hours had drained away, midnight was approaching fast. She had spent a few hours yelling at the recorded voice that kept telling her Gabriel’s number was disconnected, taunting the Archangel through their words with friends game and even tried praying politely. “You know whats really funny? Castiel said Archangels are Heavens mightiest weapons, pure unadulterated Holy wrath. He was afraid of what a pissed off Archangel could do. I just can’t picture that description when I think of you. You must be the runt of the litter. The ‘fun sized’ Archangel,” she giggled drunkly, taking another long pull from the bottle of whiskey she had found in the glovebox. She had also found the Demon Blade and twirled it mindlessly on the seat next to her. The radio hissed static and she let her head loll back onto the seat, “…Castiel on the other hand… woo. Damn, talk about making panties drop. Fuck, his wingspan alone and his grace. I could feel it across the room…do you guys ever use it for kinky shit? I bet you do you kinky bastards.”

“Hello, River.”

“Oh fuck me sideways,” River shot up in the seat. Sloshing whiskey on her shirt. “The fuck do you want?”

Castiel shifted uneasily on his end of the seat. “My superiors don’t know I’m here…you’re drunk.” 

River raised her eyebrows. “Yeah. Yes I am. Got nothing better to do than piss the night away.”

Castiel touched her forehead instantly sobering her up. River gave him an indignant frown. “May I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, shoot.”

“Do you want Lilith dead?”

River sighed, “What kind of stupid fucking question is that? Of course I want her dead.”

“Even if it meant the world would die with her?”

She blinked several times, “What do you mean…what does that mean?”

“My superiors want the last seal to fall, they want Lucifer to rise and bring about the Apocalypse… Lilith is the last seal.”

“What? You assholes said Dean could stop the Apocalypse. That he could stop Lilith!”

“If she dies then the End begins. She killed your sons; you want her dead. Would you forsake this world to watch her die?”

River squeezed her eyes shut, angry tears slipping out, “That fucking bitch. She doesn’t get to fucking win.”

“It’s Prophecy.”

“Prophecy, huh?” River slid the demon knife across the seat, “There’s always a little wiggle room when it comes to Prophecy.” Castiel’s dark blue eyes drifted to the blade River still gripped. “You’re not up for a promotion for a few thousand years anyways, right?” She gave him a half smile as his hand closed over hers. A shudder ran through her as Castiel snapped his wings. The Impala was instantly gone and they reappeared in the garish white room. Deans back was turned to them and he was devouring a cheeseburger. Castiel grabbed him, spun him into the wall and placed his hand firmly over Deans mouth. River snuck up to Cas’s side, smiling and holding her index finger to her lips telling Dean to ‘shh!’ Dean’s eyes widened and he nodded. Castiel let him go and rolled up a sleeve on his trench coat. The Angel brandished the Demon Blade in his other hand and sliced through his forearm.

“Cas, Wh-“ Dean muttered bewildered, watching as the Angel began drawing a sigil on the wall in his own blood. 

River grabbed Dean’s jacket and pulled him close, kissing him roughly. “Lilith is the last seal. If she dies, if Sam kills her, it’s all over. You have to stop him!”

“Castiel, would you mind telling me what the hell you think you’re doing!” Zachariah materialized in the room screaming at the Seraphim. 

Castiel finished drawing the sigil and slammed his bloody palm in the center. “Eat a dick!” he growled. River let out a stunned ‘Ha!’, Dean’s jaw dropped in shock as Zachariah was banished from the room in a blinding flash of light.

“He won’t be gone long. We have to find Sam.” Cas said with a slight smile he darted his eyes nervously between Dean, who still appeared shocked, and River, who was beaming.

“Wh-ok…ok well the where hell is my brother?” Dean finally got his mouth to form words. 

Castiel handed him the Demon Blade, “I don’t know. But I know someone who does.” He grabbed River and Dean’s hands and with a flap of his wings they were transported far from the Angelic waiting room. 

“Wow, that sounds…moist. $1000 an hour for one girl? Ok, I’ll take twenty for the whole night,” Chuck Shurely, illustrious author and Prophet of the Lord, listened intently to the operator of the escort service on the other end of the phone call. The very annoyed sounding woman was wanting, no needing, Chucks credit card information before she waisted anymore time. “Ok, ok wait a minute…it’s here somewhere.” He stepped back around his cluttered desk and swiped at a pile of paperwork, finding his wallet at the bottom. A sudden draft caused more stacks of paper to fly off his desk and Chuck spun towards the source. Castiel, Dean and River stood in his filthy kitchen. “ You’re not supposed to be here! This isn’t supposed to happen. Wait, no don’t hang up this is definitely…shit.” Chuck dropped his phone on the cluttered table and stared at them in amazement.

 

“Hey, Chucky. Long time no see,” River smiled. “Where the hell is Lilith?”

The author stuttered several times, “Shit….you aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Yeah you said that already and yet here we are. Where is Lilith? Where’s my brother?” Dean asked. Chuck swallowed thickly and ran to his desk, he thumbed through a stack of papers before finding the right one. “St. Mary’s, it’s uh-it’s a convent. But you aren’t supposed to be there. You aren’t in this chapter.”

Castiel looked up from the paper Chuck had handed him, “Well, we’re making it up as we go along.” River smiled again and squeezed Dean’s hand. The lights in Chucks kitchen suddenly flickered, his computer flashed then shut off. A high pitched whine echoed in the room and a light filled the small window, like the sun itself was rising right outside.

“Oh, no. Not again,” Chuck moaned stepping away from the window. The house began to shake, cabinets dumped their contents onto the tiled floor in a loud crash, a bookshelf toppled over with a bang.

“It’s the Archangel!” Castiel yelled over the din, “I can’t send you both! Dean you have to stop him! I’ll hold them off, I’ll hold them all off!”

“River!” Dean yelled reaching out for her. Castiel placed his palm to Dean’s forehead and he disappeared from the kitchen.

“Dean!” she screamed at the empty spot of floor where he was. Her wide, terrified eyes met Castiel’s. “Cas?” The whine became nearly deafening.

“Run! River, run! As fast as you can, get out! They won’t harm Chuck. Run!” The Angel grabbed her hand then pushed her away.

“Cas!”

“RUN NOW!” he yelled at her. She turned and tore through the kitchen, running for the front door. Her hands shaking as she undid the chain lock and three dead bolts Chuck had installed. The final lock clicked open and she ran down the front steps, the shaking ground causing her to stumble. She made it back to her feet and ran as if her life depended on it, which it did because more than likely the pissed off Archangel was going to turn her into a pillar of salt . Her lungs burned, tears fell from her eyes and she cursed herself for not going on more jogs with Sam. She made it two blocks before the Archangel touched down, the impact causing the Earth to give a sudden jolt causing her to trip over her own feet again. She climbed unsteadily to her feet and risked a look over her shoulder. Chucks house was entirely engulfed in the brilliant white light. The light suddenly went out as if sucked into a vacuum, the air around her ‘whooshing’ back down the street. She realized a second too late the only thing powerful enough to create the wind was the flapping of a giant set of wings. When the Archangel flapped their wings again, the wind came back in force, car windows shattered, alarms went off, dogs howled. And River turned to run again. She made it a half dozen steps before slamming into and bouncing painfully off a solid mass that had materialized in front of her. She looked up dazed and met the honey colored eyes of Gabriel. “Hi, Lollipop. What was that about ‘fun sized’?”


	33. chapter 33

Ch 33

 

River scrambled backwards away from Gabriel. He casually followed her retreat, his eyes flicking occasionally down the street where one of his brothers had just descended. “I tried calling you, Jellybean. You didn’t answer,” River stuttered, grimacing as a particularly large shard of glass embedded itself in her hand.

“Runt of the litter, I think you said,” he continued, his silky voice edged with annoyance. “I risked my life for you. I killed five innocent people plucking your ungrateful ass out of that hospital.”

“I am very grateful, Gabriel. But you know…the End of the World and all.”

Gabriel stopped walking and smiled. “You wanna see the end of the world? I’ve got just the place for you.” He snapped his fingers and the street was empty.

Dean’s stomach lurched and he had a severe case of vertigo as he landed in a dark, stone hallway. Gone was Chuck’s cluttered, messy kitchen. He closed his eyes briefly, the image of River’s agonized face when Castiel told them he couldn’t send her seared into his brain. He gripped the Demon Blade tightly in his hand and took a deep breath. His brother was here somewhere and was about to make a deadly mistake. He pushed aside his hatred for that murdering white eyed demon, Lilith, and focused on his task. He ran down the stone hallway, turned a dark corner and saw the lifeless bodies of several dead demons. Sam had apparently already been here and killed Lilith’s entourage. A door stood open at the end of the hallway and he could see Lilith struggling against unseen bonds, her chest heaving as she drew in painful breaths. Sams looming form strode into his line of vision and he tore down the hallway, screaming for his brother. Ruby stepped into the doorway, smirking as she slammed it in his face. “NO!” Dean pounded his fists into the door, Lilith started screaming again, “Sam! SAMMY! I’M HERE, PLEASE DON’T DO THIS!” 

The door remained locked and Lilith’s screams grew weaker. Dean kicked the solid wood door in frustration turning around and looking for something, anything to help him with the door. His eyes settled on a tall, iron candelabra. He used it as a battering arm against the locked door and never stoped yelling his brothers name. Lilith stopped screaming and he heard Ruby give a triumphant holler, then muffled yelling coming from his brother. The stone building gave a sudden shudder, cracks appeared under his feet. He slammed the candelabra into the door a final time and the lock broke. The door swung open and he strode in, Demon Blade gripped in one hand. Lilith lay dead, her dark blood spread out in a circle in the center of the room.

“Dean! I didn’t know! I didn’t know!” Sam yelled, holding his head in hands staring at his older brother.

Ruby was walking around the circle of blood, smiling triumphantly, “I did it! I did it for you father!” The floor under the blood began to crumble and fall away a brilliant, luminous light shining through. “He’s coming! Sam he’s coming!” she screamed happily. She finally noticed Dean stalking towards her, his dark jade eyes lit with murderous rage. “You’re too late! You’re too late!” she bellowed. 

“I don’t care!” he yelled back. Sam grabbed Ruby behind the arms pinning her to his body. Dean rushed forward and shoved the Demon Blade into Ruby’s heart, she convulsed twice around the blade, ethereal orange light crackling under her skin before she died. Sam tossed her lifeless body aside with a disgusted grimace. The building gave another dangerous lurch, bricks rained down from the ceiling. Sam stood still, rocking slightly on his feet staring at the bright light.

“I didn’t mean…I didn’t know,” he was repeating quietly to himself.

Dean grabbed him by the shoulders, “Sammy snap out of it! We need to go, now!” He pushed his younger brother in front of him back towards the door. A high pitched roar emerged from the light filled hole in the middle of the floor. The Winchesters stopped in their tracks, the sound of Lucifers voice in their brain was too much, the pain was immediate and searing. They squeezed their eyes shut against the pain and tried to prepare themselves for imminent death.

“Attention all passengers, this is your captain speaking. I’ve turned on the seatbelt sign, we are preparing for our final descent.” Dean and Sam cautiously opened one eye each. Over the course of their relatively young lives they had seen many improbable things. They currently found themselves elbow deep in one of those improbable things. They were sitting side by side in the middle of an airplane, crammed on either side of them were passengers putting their trays into the appropriate upright position and fastening their seatbelts. “What the hell?” Dean muttered looking at his brother. Sam starred back with shocked eyes and shook his head in bewilderment.

“Looks like a lovely evening in Ilchester, Ladies and Gentlemen-“ the captains voice broke in over the intercom.

“Weren’t we just there?” Sam asked.

“We’ll be landing approximately- holy shit!” The plane suddenly veered left, turbulence rocking the plane so hard the emergency oxygen masks fell from the overhead compartments. The captain struggled to right the plane as a blinding white light filled the sky outside. The shaking continued for several more seconds.

Dean white knuckled the hand rests on either side of him, “Shit, shit, shit.” He muttered under his breath. The plane finally descended and landed with barely a bump on the runway. 

“What the hell? What the hell was that? How the hell are we alive?” Dean grumbled as they ran out of the airport. Their first stop was long term parking where Dean hot wired a car. 

“Where are we goin’?” Sam asked unsurely.

“We need to get back to River. I left her at Chucks, Cas didn’t have the mojo to zap us both…” Dean said glancing over at his brother. The remainder of the drive was spent mostly in silence, both brothers having too much on their minds and no way to verbalize it.

Chucks house looked little worse for wear from the outside. Inside however was another story, nothing remained upright or hanging from the walls, bookshelves were toppled over, pictures lay in broken frames on the floor and the kitchen looked like some giant explosion of red paint had gone off. Dean and Sam crept quietly through the house, looking for signs of life and finding none. A board creaked in the hallway and the brothers froze, straining to listen. More furtive movement as someone or something moved out of their line of sight. Sam snuck forward moving his huge body cautiously towards the hallway. “Aaahhh!” Chuck darted out from behind the wall, wildly swinging the plunger he had grabbed from his bathroom upstairs. The hard rubber plunger made contact with Sam’s forehead and the giant man stumbled back with a grunt. “Sam? Dean? You’re alive? Are you ok?”

Sam rubbed his sore head and glared at the prophet, “Well my head hurts but besides that…”

“No…I mean my last vision, dude, you went full Vader,” Chuck looked at the much taller man with wide eyes, “Your body temperature was 150, your heart rate was 200. Your eyes went totally black.”

“Your eyes went black?” Dean asked quietly.

Sam blinked several times then looked over his shoulder at the worried face of his older brother, “I didn’t know.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Where’s Cas and Riv?”

Chuck shook his head, “Cas is dead. The archangel smote the crap out of him. He kind of exploded all over my kitchen like a water balloon filled with chunky soup.” 

“Shit, Cas, you stupid son of a bitch,” Dean ran his fingers through his har, “Where the hell is River?”

“I don’t know. Cas told her to run. She did….What the hell…Is this a molar?” Chuck had scratched his ear and found a chunk of Cas stuck to him. “Ughh this sucks ass.”

Dean pulled out his phone and held it to his ear. Rivers phone rang several times before finally switching to her voicemail. “Hey, Princess. It’s me. We’re ok, we’re at Chucks. Call me ASAP.” He stared at the phone for a second, debating with himself before he started swiping through the screens. 

“What are you doing?” Sam asked him.

“I installed a tracking app on River’s phone. Don’t fucking tell her, she’ll kick my ass. I just…I just wanted to know where she went if that fuck Loki took her anywhere.” Dean smiled wanly at his brother. “Oh thank god, she’s just down the street. She must be hiding out somewhere.” He brushed past his brother and the Prophet and followed the little green dot on his phone. Dean jogged quickly down the street, his red dot met then quickly passed River’s green dot as he stared at the screen. He stopped and turned in a tight circle. There were abandoned lots on either side of the street, providing no coverage or suitable hiding spot. “River!” he yelled while simultaneously dialing her phone again. Dean’s heart froze as he heard the unmistakable riff of Led Zeppelins ‘Whole lotta love’ coming from a dirt pile a few feet to his left. He bent down and sifted through the dirt until he found her phone. He was about to stand when he saw something glinting in the early morning light. He grasped the delicate gold chain, attached to it was the brightly colored lollipop charm that had adorned River’s neck for months. He tucked the necklace and the phone into his jacket pocket and rubbed his fingers together. What he had mistaken for a pile of dirt was actually ash, dark grey and silky smooth against his fingers. “God damn it, sweetheart.”

“Did you find her?” Sam asked as Dean walked back into the Chucks destroyed home. He was helping Chuck stand one of his bookshelves right side up. Dean paced a few times in the short hallway before grabbing a chair that had the misfortune of being within arms distance. He picked it up with a rage filled growl and smashed into the wall.

“Hey, I liked that chair,” Chuck mumbled morosely. 

“Dean?” Sam watched unsurely as Dean pulled the demon knife out and sliced his palm open. He scribbled a sigil on the wall in his blood then punched a hole in the dry wall next to it.

“Hey, man! Come on! First my chair, now your blood is all over my wall and…that hole! Come on this has been a really stressful day!” Chuck moaned.

“This is just in case any more of those feathered assholes show up. ‘cause you know they will.” Dean growled.

“Where’s River?” Sam asked again. “Dean, did you find her?”

Dean’s hand clenched around the necklace in his pocket, “She’s gone Sam. Ok? Nothing left but her phone and….”

“Chunky soup?” Chuck piped up unhelpfully. 

Sam looked at Chuck and back to his brother, “No. No.” He shook his head in disbelief staring as his brother tried to regain a sense of composure.

Dean sighed, “No chunky soup. Just ash. Fuck!” He punched another hole in the wall. 

“Oh no!” Chuck moaned again.

Dean took a deep breath, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix it, ok?”

“No it’s not ok…it’s the Angels. I can feel them. They’re coming.”

Dean shot his brother a ‘told you so’ look and turned towards the kitchen. Zachariah and two other well dressed Angels appeared before them. “Thought we’d find you here.” He looked around the gore splattered kitchen in disgust. “Dean, it’s time to stop this nonsense. Come with us.”

“Keep your distance, asshat!” Dean yelled.

Zachariah smiled, “You’re upset.”

“Yeah, you could say that! You blew up my friend, scorched my girlfriend and oh yeah! Jump started the apocalypse. I’m a little miffed.” 

The Angel smiled again, “More sarcasm. And lets just clarify a few things. Number 1: Collateral damage is to be expected especially if you stand in the way of an Archangel. Number 2: We didn’t start the apocalypse. Right, Sammy?” Zachariah leered over Dean’s shoulder at the tall hunter. “We just let it happen. You two had the paths laid out in front of you and you took them…you had the opportunity to stop your brother! And you couldn’t do it!” He paused, taking a deep breath and straightened his suit. “Lets stop this petty arguing, ok? It’s ‘apocalypse now’ and we are back on the same team, like it or not.”

“Why the hell would I trust you now?” Dean growled.

“Because you want to kill the Devil. We want to you help you kill the Devil. Understand this, Lucifer is powerful in ways that are indescribable. Now is the time to strike, hard and fast before he finds his vessel.”

 

“Wait, Lucifer needs a meat suit?”Sam asked.

Zachariah smiled, “He is an Angel. And those are the rules. When he touches down thats when the real party starts. Four horsemen, oceans of blood, fire falling from the heaven, yada yada yada…You can stop him Dean. You just need our help.”

Dean smirked, “Man you have to got think I am some gullible mark. After the bullshit you pulled? I don’t want anything from you.”

“What part of this do you think is up for discussion? You think you can rebel? Against us? Like Lucifer did…why are you bleeding?”

“Little insurance policy. Figured it would just be a matter of time before you dicks showed up spewing some new angle to screw over humanity.” Dean stepped back and slammed his bloody palm into the sigil he had drawn on Chucks wall. Zachariah and his angelic goons disappeared in a flash of light.

“Well, that’s just gonna piss them off even more,” Chuck mumbled unhappily behind the brothers.

“Don’t worry about it man, you’re still their prophet right?” Dean replied. He rubbed his eyes tiredly then looked round at the disaster that was Chucks house. “We’ll help you clean up some of the…Cas in your kitchen.” They spent the next few hours trying to make Chucks house livable again before the Prophet finally asked them to leave so he could wash the bits of Castiel out of his hair. Dean apologized again for the holes he had punched in the wall and Sam apologized for letting Lucifer out of his cage. They drove further into the city until the found their type of motel complete with hourly rates and working girls standing guard in the hallways. Sam left Dean in the room to get their weapons and equipment settled while Sam went out for some basic supplies and food. He returned quick enough toting burgers and a six pack. “Here take this,” Sam tossed his brother a small cloth bag as he set the take out bag down amongst their guns and boxes of bullets. 

“What is it?” Dean inspected the black cloth bag it smelled faintly of cloves and had several small bulges.

“It’s a hex bag. It’ll keep the Angels off our asses. Demons, too.” Sam answered.

Dean nodded, “Where’d you get them?”

“I made them,” Sam told him quietly. “I..uh..Ruby showed me how.”

Dean considered the he bag for another moment before setting it down, “Speaking of…how you feeling? You jonesing for some bitch blood yet?”

Sam took his jacket off slowly and shook his head, “No. No, It’s weird actually. I feel great, better then I’ve felt in months. It’s like when we got Shazamed onto that plane I got cleaned up.”

“Like supernatural methadone,” Dean said thoughtfully.

Sam shifted on his feet nervously, “Dean-“

“Sam don’t. It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything,” Dean turned away from his brother and rooted through the bag of take out.

Sam let out a short chuckle, “Well that’s a relief. ‘cause what can I say? ‘I’m sorry. I screwed up?” He glanced around the room and noticed River’s beat up olive green duffle bag on the bed next to Deans. “You think she’s really gone?”

Dean’s jaw tightened as he followed his brothers eyes to the bag. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the cracked, charred phone and the stupid necklace that had been a permanent fixture around Rivers throat and handed them to his brother. “Phone still had some juice when I found it…I thought she dropped it in a pile of dirt. It was ash. So yeah I think she’s really gone.”

Sam ran his thumb over the burnt ‘Goonies’ case River had been stoked to find during one of their infrequent stops at a real mall. She had begged Dean to take her to an actual shopping mall a few months back so she could stock up on fancy smelling lotion and ‘cute’ underwear. “Dean, when I die I will not die in fucking granny panties. Ok?” The mall ended up having a pretty legit arcade and she had left the brothers to compete at Skeeball so she could shop in peace. When she returned, arms full of little pink bags and smelling like a flower shop threw up on her, her prize find had been the cellphone case. “Dean, I messed up. I can’t ever make this right-“

“Then stop bringing it up!” Dean yelled a little more harshly then he had meant. Sams jaw clenched and he nodded his head. “Look, all I’m saying is- Cas knew the risk. River knew the risk. They went down fighting and that’s that. So we made a mess and now we clean it up.” 

Sam nodded, “Yeah, ok.”

“Ok. Well lets pretend this was any other hunt,” Dean started, “Whats our first step?”

“We uh…we find the thing we’re gonna hunt.” Sam answered.

“So all we gotta do is find the Devil.” His older brother said smiling.


	34. chapter 34

Ch 34

A few hundred miles away from The Regent Inn Motel self-identified ‘Supernatural’ superfan Becky Rosen was busy writing her latest fan-fiction. Becky was a Sam girl through and through but had a particularly naughty side when it came to her reading and writing. She was a tiny blonde young woman, barely five feet tall. By outward appearances she would be more at home leading a Torah study group then being a prolific author of Sam/ Dean incest-kink fan stories. Her eyes darted back and forth across the computer screen wondering if she was jumping too quickly into the smut for this particular story. They brothers hadn’t even ganked the monster yet and were already undressing each other. “Hmmm….If this is wrong I don’t want to be right,” Becky read her latest line a deep voice, the voice she had created for Sam. “Sam said in a husky voice. Yeah I like that.”

A message box popped up on her screen interrupting her writing. “Carver Edlund calling” Becky paused half expecting this call to be some creep flashing his penis at her, again. She accepted the call and Chuck Shurely’s tired, haggard face filled her computer screen. Becky let out a high pitched squeal, “Oh my god! Its you! It’s really you!”

Chuck nodded, “Yeah, hi uhm I’m… Carver Edlund.”

“I know! You got my letters and my marzipan?” Becky squeaked. 

“Umm yes and thank you it was delicious.”

“I’m your number one fan. You know I’m ‘SamLicker81’ on morethanbrothers.net," she leaned closer to the computer screen, her eyes lighting up with a slightly crazy zeal.

“Oh yeah. Wait-what?…” Chuck shook his head again, “Look, yeah I know you’re my number fan that’s why I’ve contacted you. I need your help. And you’re the only one that will believe me.”

“For you Mr. Edlund. Anything!” Becky babbled excitedly.

“I’m kind of in a situation here…” he smiled nervously. “I need you to get a message to Sam and Dean.”

Becky’s eyes instantly narrowed at the mention of Carver’s fictional characters. Her eyes flicked to the open Word page to the side of the Skype window as if Edlund/Chuck could read it from his side of the connection. “Look Mr. Edlund, I get it ok. I know I’m a big fan but I don’t appreciate being mocked. I know the difference between fantasy and reality.”

Carver sighed, “It’s all real Becky.”

“I knew it!” Becky screamed.

****

Sam had decided to let Dean work through his grief at losing Cas and River in peace. He watched his brother from the corner of his eyes as he flipped through their dads journal. Dean sat on his bed, an untouched bottle of beer clutched in one hand and the TV remote in the other. He had settled on a news station the anchors discussing the world wide natural disasters that had occurred at precisely the same moment; “A hurricane in Thailand, scattered Earthquakes all along the continental US, volcano eruptions in Hawaii, Iceland, and Fiji all at the same time? How do you explain it?” The female anchor asked her incredulous partner. “One word: Chem-Trails.” Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. He turned the channel and landed on a ‘Scooby-Doo’ rerun but before he could enjoy Shaggy and Scooby’s shenanigans someone knocked at their door. Sam stood warily from the table and headed for the door while Dean pulled his gun out from underneath his pillow. Sam checked the peephole and saw the top of a blonde head. He opened the door cautiously and looked down at the waif like woman in front of him. Her eyes bugged out and she took several deep shuddering breaths, her whole body shivered as she met Sam’s eyes. 

“You ok, lady?” Sam asked unsurely.

Becky Rosen took another heaving breath, “Sam…is it really you?” Her voice cracked and she blinked several times trying not to cry at the sight of the god-like man in front of her, he was so much more than she had imagined. Taller, more handsome, his hair more bouncy. She stepped forward and ran her hands along Sam’s chest. “You’re so firm,” she muttered biting her lower lip.

“Do I know you?” Sam asked cocking an eyebrow at the short blonde weirdo that still ran her fingers longingly along his flannel shirt.

“No, but I know you! You’re Sam Winchester!” Becky breathed out stepping into the room her eyes fell to Dean where he sat on the edge of his bed. “You’re not what I expected. I mean I can totally see why some girls would be attracted to that. But Sam’s so….so tall. ” She mused. Dean closed his eyes and shook his head, wondering if he was stuck in some stupid dream. “I’m Becky! I’ve read all about you guys. Mr. Edlund sent me.”

“Chuck sent you?” Dean repeated.

“Yes, he has a message for you. But he’s being watched… you know by the Angels. I’m glad he’s changing up the mythology Demon’s were getting a bit stale. Lets kill Lilith- blah blah blah.” Becky yammered. Dean crossed his arms over his chest and looked over Becky’s blonde head to his brother. 

“Right. So what’s the message Becky?” Sam interrupted.

Becky had gone back to stroking Sams muscular forearm and chewing on her bottom lip. “Oh-oh yeah!” she started withdrawing her hand slowly from Sam. “Carver or Chuck,” she giggled at the use of the authors given name. “He had a vision or something,” she closed her eyes to help remember the exact wording Chuck had told her, “The Michael sword is on Earth. The Angels lost it.”

“What the hell is a Michael sword?” Dean spoke up. Becky shrugged her shoulders and stared longing at the exceptionally tall man in front of her.

“Ok, does Chuck know where its at?” Sam asked.

Becky smiled, “In a castle, on a hill made of 42 dogs.” The brothers shared a look obviously reading each other mind and knowing this was complete nonsense. Becky squealed in delight, “Oh my god! You guys really do that! Like in the books! You must be really close to be able to keep so much unsaid.” 

Dean’s eyebrows disappeared under his hair as he shot his brother another look, “I’m callin’ Bobby. Thanks for the message Blondie.”

Becky nodded her head, closed her eyes serenely and ran her hands once more over Sams chest, “I know it doesn’t make sense…oh…but I memorized every word of it. For you.” She made a soft ‘mmmm’ noise in the back of her throat. 

Sam shifted uncomfortably on his feet , “Becky could you please stop touching me?”

Beck kept her eyes shut and squeezed Sam’s pectoral muscle, “No.” After several more minutes of unwanted groping Sam was able to untangle himself from Becky and escort her out their room. 

Dean was able to get a hold of Bobby and was relieved his Baby had made it to his place in one piece. He didn’t tell the older man about River or the finer details of the current shit storm they found themselves in but promised a full report once Bobby joined them in person. The grizzled hunter said he’d grab some books he thought might be useful before meeting them. The brothers spent the next half day rereading through their fathers journal, searching the internet for anything related to the Michael sword and watching ‘Doctor Sexy, MD’ reruns. They were half way through Dean’s favorite episode of ‘Doctor Sexy’ (in this one the good doctor saves a child from drowning, performs an emergency kidney transplant and makes sweet, sweet love to one of his adoring nurses after a particularly grueling surgery) before three quick knocks sounded at their door. Sam jumped off his bed grateful for any reprise from Dean’s program of choice and wrenched the door open. Bobby’s trucker hat and stubble covered face looked up at Sam. “You weren’t followed were you?” Sam asked checking the hallway behind Bobby.

“Nope. No demons, or angels. Even lost Sam’s new superfan,” Bobby answered smiling slightly, “I am so glad to see you two in one piece. Where’s my girl at?” Bobby’s eyes cast around the room looking for some sign of the red head before setting on Dean’s drawn face. His green eyes dark and downcast. 

“She uh…” Dean shook his head and let out a long breath, “She didn’t make it. It was quick, I hope. I guess that counts for something.”

“Balls,” Bobby muttered heavily. The older man ran his hands thoughtfully over his jaw then up under his hat, pulling it tightly back down around his ears. There’d be time for sorrow later but for now the hunters had business to attend to and knowing River she’d have it no other way. “Well, sword of Michael, huh?”

“You think they mean the actual Archangel?” Dean asked quietly.

Bobby nodded, “You’d better hope so. He’s the toughest son of a bitch they got. He’s supposedly the one that tossed Lucifer into the Pit the first time.” He walked to the cluttered table in the center of the room and pulled out an antique tome from the bag on his shoulder. He carefully flipped through the pages until he found the manuscripts and paintings he wanted. “That’s Michael, he commands the Heavenly Host aka the Angels, he’s their General Patton so to speak. He’s almost always pictured with that,” he jabbed his finger at one of the paintings Sam was looking at. The Archangel Michael was wielding a magnificent, deadly looking sword.

“The Michael Sword?” Sam muttered quietly. “So maybe if we find this for Michael he can use it to kick Lucifers ass back to his cage?” Bobby nodded. “How do we find it? The damn Angels don’t know where it is.”

“I dunno. But when all else fails we read. So divvy up and start reading. Maybe we can make sense of Chucks nonsense.” Bobby said scooting the dusty tome to Sam and standing from the table.

“Yay books,” Dean muttered disgustedly. “I’m going to go get us some caffeine and grub. Save me one of the really big ones with no pictures.” He grumbled grabbing his jacket off the table and heading for the door. Sam watched his brother walk out the door and sighed heavily.

“You ok, son?” Bobby asked after a half hour of Sam staring at the same page.

Sam stood unsurely from the table and ran his hands through his hair. “No, no actually.” He cleared his throat, rubbed his suddenly sweaty hands on his jeans. The door opened and Sam turned to watch his brother amble in carrying a tray of large coffees and a box of donuts. Dean looked between his brother and adopted father sensing he had walked in on the middle of something. “Look, Bobby. I started this. It’s my fault Lucifer is out of his cage. I’m sorry. That doesn’t cut it I know that-“ 

“Sam, don’t.” Dean cut in.

“No, he needs to know. He needs to hear it from me. Lilith didn’t break the final seal, she was the final seal.”

“Stop it, Sam!” Dean said harshly. Bobby looked between his boys.

“I killed her. I set Lucifer free.”

“You what?” Bobby growled.

Sam took a deep breath, “You warned me about Ruby. You all tried to help me, to keep me from her. I didn’t listen.”

Bobby slammed his hands on the table and stood, “You’re damn right you didn’t listen! You were selfish and reckless and arrogant! You get River killed, again. For good this time! No ended the world Sam Winchester. Sorry don’t friggin’ cut it!” He yelled angrily walking up to Sam to stand toe to toe with the bigger man staring up into his young frightened face.

“I know but there’s nothing else to say. I’m sorry,” Sam repeated brokenly. Dean stood quietly at the table Bobby had vacated.

“If by the grace of God we pull this off, I want you to lose my number. You got that? Don’t you ever come near me again!”

Sam nodded, blinking back tears, “There’s an old Synagogue near by. I’ll go see if I can go through there lore books.” Bobby turned disgustedly away from him not able to face the young man he had basically raised. Dean watched as his brother gathered his phone and jacket and left the room without another word. The two hunters sat at the table together and began reading through their collection of Angelic lore. Bobby stewed quietly until the sun set and Dean had to get up and start turning on lights.

“I hate to say this, son, but I think your daddy was right about Sam,” he grumbled finally his head bowed over a dusty old version of the Bible.

“What do you mean Bobby?” Dean asked.

Bobby turned another page thoughtfully, “You either save Sam or kill him. We couldn’t stop him, Dean. We tried, son, we did and it wasn’t enough and thats on us. Your daddy knew-“

Dean nodded before a look of comprehension broke on his face, “Dad! Wait a sec…” He ran to his duffle bag and began digging through his rolled up clothes before pulling out a ziplock bag of business cards. He grabbed one triumphantly, “Bobby look at this; it’s one of Dad’s old lock up in New York. ‘Castle Hill Storage’ 42 Rover Street.”

Bobby took the card and read it several times, “Castle on a hill made of 42 dogs? Huh.”

“You think it could be Chuck’s prophecy? Dad had the Michael sword this whole time?” Dean asked the older man. 

Bobby smiled, “Good enough for me.” Before Dean could react Bobby swung his fist back and struck him squarely in the jaw. He went flying backwards from the impact, crashed into the wall and slumped to the floor in a daze. Bobby pulled Dean up roughly by his hair; his eyes pure black and face contorted by hate.

“Bobby?” Dean grunted. The door to the motel room was kicked in and in strode three strangers; a short woman with dark brown hair and pale skin and two men. The two new men each grabbed one of Dean’s arms and held him still.

The woman stood in front of Dean and smiled up at him. “Well, well, well. I know you aren’t the quickest bunny in the forrest, Dean but come on- you? You are gonna ice the devil? If I had known that I would have ripped your pretty, pretty face of ages ago.” The woman drawled lazily taking in the shabby room. Her eyes settled on the Demon Blade and she picked it up, inspecting the carvings on the edge.

“Ruby?” Dean asked uncertainly. He had killed that demon bitch, stabbed her in the heart with the Demon Blade.

“Nope, numbnuts. Think harder. Go further back,” the woman sneered, draging the knife blade gently across Dean’s collar bone.

Deans mind raced, who the hell was this bitch? Wait a name popped up from the recesses of his memory. “Meg?” He and his brother had exorcised that demon bitch back to hell a few years back and then held the poor young woman that had been possessed as she died.

“Bingo, genius.” Meg laughed. “We all owe that big oaf brother of yours a fruit basket. Our daddy walks the Earth because of him. But you, sweet pea, you’re the only thing standing in our way. And every single demon is out for your head. We all want a piece of you, Hot Stuff.” Meg moved the blade up to Dean’s jaw line, the hunters green eyes flashed violently at the use of River’s stupid pet name for him. Meg smiled again grabbing Deans jaw harshly. She pulled him towards her and crushed her lips to his, Dean grimaced against her and tried to pull his head away. Meg shoved her tongue in his mouth, Dean felt the bile rise in his throat as her slug like tongue probed him. She finally withdrew her intrusion and licked her lips.

Dean dry heaved, “What is that…garlic and peanut butter?”

“You are delicious,” Meg purred. “But you know whats even more delicious; Daddy 2.0 here is still awake inside, screaming. I wonder how loud he’s gonna scream when we cut your liver out.” She handed Bobby the knife, the demon possessing the older hunter smiled. It grabbed Dean around the throat and shoved him into the nearest wall. He pressed the razor sharp edge of the blade into Dean’s throat, a thin line of blood appeared and trickled down his neck. 

“Bobby-“ Dean turned his face away from the black eyed stare. The demon jerkily raised the knife up, readying for a murderous strike then froze. The knife trembling in his hand. 

“Kill him!” Meg yelled at the demon. Bobby’s head twitched, a shiver ran through him, the knife didn’t move any closer to Dean. Dean cautiously opened one eye and saw the black obscuring Bobby’s eyes start to swirl and clear. Bobby blinked twice and saw Dean’s frightened and bewildered eyes staring up at him. The older hunter released Dean who tumbled to the floor and took a deep breath. Bobby plunged the knife he still grasped into his midsection killing the demon that still partially possessed him. Dean growled in rage and tackled the demon closest to him, he beat the demons face to an unrecognizable pulp as the motel door was once again kicked in. “Well hey there, Sammy. I was worried you wouldn’t make it the party,” Meg purred as she swung one of her diminutive fists into the side of Sam’s face. Sam was thrown into the wall in pile of long limbs and flying hair. “Not so easy without your super scary powers, huh Sammy?”

Dean gingerly pulled the knife out of Bobby and used it kill the demon that lay twitching on the floor. He turned to the second male demon that stood torn at the doorway. The demon thought quickly to himself kill one of the Winchesters or save his own skin and run. The decision was made for him when Dean surged forward and jabbed the knife into his throat. Meg staggered back away from the hunters outnumbered and not wanting to find out how the pointy end of the Demon blade would feel in her heart she opened her mouth and screamed. Black smoke erupted out and swirled through the nearest air duct. “Bobby!” Sam yelled noticing the older man laying in an expanding pool of blood. The brothers carried the man to the Impala and raced him to the nearest ER. The nurses and doctors rushed Bobby to emergency surgery. Sam stood at the surgery doors as they banged closed in front of him.

“We gotta go. Sam we gotta go now!” Dean pulled his younger brother away from the door and out of the hospital. “We need to get to dads lock up before the demons. They can’t get their hands on the sword.” 

Dean pushed the Impala as fast as she could go and it still felt like they were driving through quicksand. The thought of the demons getting to the Archangels weapon before them gnawed at his gut. The storage unit finally appeared and Dean let out a long breath as he and his brother climbed out of the car. The aisles of storage lockers were dark and abandoned at this time of night. The only they sound they heard were their own quiet foot steps as they hurried to their fathers unit near the back of the property. Knowing John Winchester he had spent time scoping out the facility and chose the unit with the least visibility on the security cameras. The padlock was intact, the key lost long ago so Dean picked the lock and tossed it aside. The air that wafted out was ripe with ozone and sulfur, the brothers shared a quick look then stepped cautiously inside. Shelves had been knocked over, boxes lay broken and scattered Dean worried about what may have been let loose but pushed the worry aside. An intricate Devils trap was painted onto the cement floor a few feet in the cool, dark room. The bodies of two men lay in a mangled heap in the center of the trap, the holes where their eyes had been still smoldering. “Well, I see you told the Demons where the Sword was,” Zachariah appeared before the brothers his features drawn and irritated. 

“Oh! Thank god! The Angels are here,” Dean snarked shaking his head at the mess his fathers storage unit had been turned into. He knew if John were there he’d be in a rage that his carefully categorized and catalogued items had been thrown around like trash. 

“To think,” Zachariah continued quietly, “They could’ve grabbed the sword anytime they wanted. It was right in front of them the whole time.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked. 

“We did lose the Michael sword, had no idea where it was. We also planted that little piece of prophecy in Chuck….and here you are right on cue. You hand delivered the sword to us,” Zachariah smiled.

“We don’t have anything asshat,” Dean said waiving his arms around the room.

Zachariah sighed smiling at Dean like he was a very dim child, “It’s you chucklehead. You are the Michael Sword.” Dean tried to make his mouth work, tried to form even a simple question but found the he couldn’t. The Angel had apparently gone off the deep end that was the only answer. Zachariah laughed, “Wait, you didn’t actually think you could kill Lucifer, did you? You? You simpering wad of insecurity, self-loathing and daddy issues. You’re just a human Dean, weak, pitiful, breakable.”

Dean licked his suddenly dry lips, “What do you mean I’m the Michael sword?”

“You’re his weapon. Or more accurately his physical receptacle,” the Angel answered.

“Wait. I’m a vessel?” Dean asked looking over his shoulder disbelieving at his brother.

“Dean my boy you are the vessel.”

“What?” Dean repeated, “Why-“

“Because it is God’s will. This is a great honor Dean.”

“Being an angelic condom? No, I think I’ll pass,” Dean said turning away from the Angel. Zachariah waived his hand and a large metal shelve slid sideways across the floor and blocked the brothers exit.

“Ok, you like jokes. I can joke. You hear the one about the Angel breaking your brothers legs?” Before Dean could answer Zachariah pointed a finger at Sam, a sickening ‘crack’ echoed in the room and Sam crumpled to floor in agony grasping his slower legs. Dean knelt besides his brother who had gone suddenly very pale and was breathing raggedly though the pain. “Now, I am completely done messing around. The war has started, our General is missing from the battlefield. Michael will enter his vessel, which is you, and strike the adversary down while he is weak.”

Dean slowly stood up and faced Zachariah, “And how many humans die in the cross fire? 5 or 10 million? More?”

“And do you know how many will die if Lucifer wins? All of them! He will roast this planet.”

“You’re telling me all this for a reason…Michael needs my consent to ride my sweet ass, doesn’t he?” 

Zachariah shifted on his feet, his eyes wide and worried. “Yes. You must give yourself to him freely.”

“Well, the answers no.”

“Fine…your friend Bobby is gravely injured,” Zachariah bargained, “Say yes and he will be healed. No and he will never walk again.”

Dean took a deep breath, “Answers still no.” Sam tried in vain to get his breathing under control, he was grunting quietly in pain behind his brother.

Zachariah’s eyes narrowed and a thin line appeared between his brows as he grew more angered by the obstinate mortal. “Ok, well….hmmm. Now the creative juices are flowing, how about we heal you from stage 4 stomach cancer.” He smiled sickly at Dean. A sudden fiery pain blossomed in his abdomen and he sank to his knees coughing blood. “And lets see how Sammy does with no lungs.” Sams grunts of pain were replaced by a hollow gasps, his face turned dark purple as his insides burned from lack of oxygen. “Now I can keep this up for eternity. How long can you last Dean Winchester?” Zachariah knelt down in front of Dean, who had vomited something thick and viscous onto the floor in front of him. The Angel sneered as Dean wiped a shaky hand across his mouth. “Not lookin’ too good there Sammy and it’s only been what,” Zachariah checked the Rolex watch on his wrist, Angels had no need for watches but his vessel had been proud of the chunk of metal and gears and so he kept it. “50 seconds. My, my what should I remove next.”

Zachariah stopped his self indulgent prattling as the storage locker was flooded with a brilliant white light. The light receded and it’s wake was none other than Castiel. The two Angels that had accompanied Zachariah shot forward, each wielding their deadly, silver Angel blades and attacked the trench coated Castiel. The first Angel was over zealous pushing forward and swinging his blade in a wide arch catching the edge of Castiel’s coat and nothing else. Cas side stepped out of the way, swinging his own shiny silver dagger and caught the his brother in the chest. The Angel died with a flash of light and Castiel grimaced as he dropped the dead Angel. The second Angel, a bald man several inches taller than Castiel snarled and landed a strong right hook to his jaw. Cas stumbled back with the force of the impact. Dean and Zachariah wore similar slack jaw expressions watching the Angels battle. Sams shoulders spasmed as he continued to try and suck in air, black spots appeared in his vision and a deafening roar was filling his ears. Another flash of light and Cas pulled his Angel blade out of the neck of the bald vessel. “How are you….” Zachariah stuttered.

“Alive?” Castiel finished. “Good question. How did these two end up on the airplane? Another good question. I think we both know the answer though don’t we Zachariah?”

Zachariah shook his head, his eyes wide and frightened. “No. No, that’s impossible!”

“It scares you. It should,” Cas’s voice was low and dangerous, he took a threatening step toward Zachariah. “Put these boys back together and go. I won’t ask twice.” Zachariah blinked several times, weighing his options. He wasn’t a fighter, he didn’t even know where his Angel blade was. Castiel had killed two of his personal body guards in a matter of seconds. Choosing to live, Zachariah pulled his shoulders back, straightened his jacket and disappeared with a flutter of his wings. The instant the smug Angel disappeared the pain in Dean’s stomach subsided and Sam was able to pull in a greedy breath of air and move his long legs. The brothers helped each other stand and looked in awe at their once dead friend. “You two need to be more careful.” Castiel told them quietly.

“Yeah starting to get that,” Dean replied. “Your frat brothers are real dicks you know that?”

Castiel gave him a lopsided smile, “I’m not just talking about the Angels. Lucifer is circling his vessel and those hex bags will not be enough to protect you.” He stepped closer to the brothers and laid a hand on each of their chests. Sam and Dean felt a tingling sensation that quickly turned into a burning ache along their ribs. As soon as the sensation started it was gone and Castiel withdrew his hands.

“What the hell was that?” Sam gasped, rubbing his chest.

“Enochian sigils. It will hide you from every Angel in existence including Lucifer.” 

“What? Did you just brand us with that crap?” Dean grunted pulling up his shirt and seeing no new marks on his skin.

“No, I carved it into your ribs.” Castiel smiled.

“Cas, were you really dead?” Sam asked after an awkward moment of silent staring.

The Angel nodded quickly, “Yes, I was.” Without another word he disappeared leaving the Winchesters alone in the cold storage unit. Dean ran his hands thoughtfully through his hair once again thinking about his father and how pissed he would be that his carefully organized possessions had been treated so thoughtlessly. He didn’t have the patience to clean up the destruction the demons and Angels had caused but he definitely wouldn’t let the dead meat suits rot and purify among John Winchesters possessions. So he and his brother carried out the four dead bodies, shoved them into Baby’s ample trunk, and relocked the storage unit for another day. They found an empty wooded area to bury and burn the corpses in and headed back to Bobby before the sun crested the morning horizon. 

They arrived back at the hospital in time to witness Bobby berating a nervous looking intern, “I wanna see a real doctor, not some little shit bird that ain’t even old enough to shave, come in here and tell me! Tell Me! That I ain’t gonna walk again. Now get the hell outta my sight!” The young doctor scurried out of the room, reflexively pulling on his stethoscope as he went. Sam gave the man a thin smile as they passed him in the hallway and entered Bobby’s room. Dean had called Bobby on the way and gave him the update. “Can you believe that idjit?” Bobby grumbled when the brothers entered his room. Dean gave him a half smile and slumped into one of the chairs next to Bobby’s bed while his brother took the second one. 

“What are we supposed to do now?” Sam asked as Dean let out a long sigh and rubbed his eyes.

“I dunno son, guess we save as many as we can for as long as can. Don’t matter who wins. Either way we are screwed.” Bobby said quietly while inspecting the IV that itched something terrible in his left hand.

Dean sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “What if we win?” Sam and Bobby looked at each other then back to Dean with their eyebrows raised. “I’m serious. Demons, Angels, they can all go fuck themselves as far as I’m concerned. This is our planet and they can go find their own if they wanna play turf war.” Dean stood up and paced the room. “We kill ‘em all if we have to, Lucifer is first to go. Then Michael if we have to ‘cause there’s no way I’m letting that supped up douche ride my meatsuit.”

“And just how the hell do you expect to do that, Einstein?” Bobby asked shaking his head.

Dean threw his arms up. ”I got no idea!” he laughed. “But what I do got is a G.E.D and give ‘em hell attitude. And I’ll figure it out because I always do…or I’ll get dragged back to Hell or God knows where else.”

“Son you are nine kinds of crazy,” Bobby said smiling.

“We’ll be back when they let your gimp ass out. Stay on the mend,” Dean bent down to give the older man a quick hug and turned towards the door. Sam nodded and smiled shyly to Bobby before moving to follow his older brother. Bobby reached out for his arm as he passed, his reflexes quick as ever even if couldn’t feel his toes at the moment.

“You listen to me, Sam,” Bobby pulled the big hunter down towards him, “I was awake in here. I know what that demon said to you and it was just that, It was the demon talkin’. I love you like my own ain’t nothin’ gonna change that. You understand?” Sam nodded, blinking quickly and not trusting himself to speak. “You two be back tomorrow; they’re lettin’ me out whether they want to or not.”


	35. chapter 35

Ch 35

True to his word Bobby demanded he be released from the hospital the next morning. Dean and Sam returned to the hospital as soon as visiting hours resumed. They waited patiently for the doctors and nurses to finish Bobby’s paperwork and for the wheelchair he would be in for the foreseeable future to be delivered. Bobby for the most part sat sullenly in front of the small window in his room, eyes open but seeing very little. “We gotta do something to cheer him up,” Sam said quietly from the hallway outside his room.

Dean nodded. “Maybe a stripper-gram?” he smirked. “Hey check this out. Went by radiology for some glamour shots.” He handed his younger brother a large brown envelope. Sam looked curiously inside, pulling out a black and white film of Deans ribcage. His ribs and sternum were covered in Enochian sigils.

“What the hell?” Sam muttered.

“Yeah, well Cas did say he carved ‘em into our ribs. You gotta a matching set little brother.” Dean tucked the images back into the envelope. “When the hell are they gonna deliver that damn wheelchair?”

“I dunno-“ Sam answered, his jacket pocket started vibrating and he pulled out his cellphone. “Hello- Castiel? You have a cellphone?…We’re at St. Martin’s hospital-hello?… I think he hung up on me.”

Dean snorted, “I’m surprised he even knows how to use a phone.” A moment later the trench coated Angel came walking quickly around the corner. “Hey, Cas. You know it’s rude to hang up on people. And since when do you need to call us?”

“You’re hidden from Angels. All Angels, including me,” Cas said explaining it to Dean very slowly, “I won’t be able to just-“

“Enough!” Bobby’s gruff voice broke through. He turned his wheelchair away from the window to face the Angel. “Get on with it. Come lay hands on me. Get to healin’. I got things to do.”

Castiel sighed deeply, his face falling slightly, “I can’t.”

“Excuse me?” Bobby asked dangerously.

“I rebelled. I am an outcast. I am cut off from Heaven and most of Heaven’s power,” the Angel said walking slowly across the room towards the older hunter. “There are certain things I can do and certain things I can not. I can not heal you. I’m sorry.”

Bobby sneered at the Angel, “Shove it up your ass!”

Castiel sighed again as Bobby angrily turned back to the window. “I haven’t much time. The closer I am to you two the more danger we are all in.” He paused and watched a group of nurses rush past Bobby’s room. “I know of your plan to kill Lucifer.”

“Great, you gonna help?” Dean asked.

“Of course not,” Castiel answered. “It can’t be done. But I have an idea; there is someone stronger than Michael, someone who can stop Lucifer, stop the apocalypse.”

“Who?” Sam asked.

“God,” the Angel answered, “I’m going to find God.”

“Try New Hampshire, I heard he appeared in an Apple Fritter.” Dean quipped shaking his head at the Angel.

“No, God is not in any fried dough,” the Angel replied seriously, “He’s not in Heaven. So he must be somewhere else.”

“Look, Cas, God is most likely dead or he isn’t and that means he doesn’t give a shit about any of us,” Dean said growing more angry, “Look around we are literally at the Final Countdown and God’s probably got his feet kicked up on some beach drinkin’ booze out of a coconut.”

Castiel’s blue eyes flashed, “This is not a theological issue, Dean. This is strategy. With God’s aid we can win the battle against Lucifer.”

“It’s a waste of time, Cas!” Dean snapped.

“I killed two angels this week. My brothers,” Cas said stepping with in inches of the hunter. The tiny hairs on the back of Dean’s neck stood on end as if the air around him suddenly contained an electric charge. “I’m hunted. I rebelled. For you! And you failed. You and your brother destroyed the world. And I lost everything for nothing. So keep your opinions to yourself.” Dean swallowed thickly and nodded.

“Simmer down, Cas. My eyebrows are about to catch fire,” Bobby grumbled. “You didn’t come just to rip us a new asshole. What do you want?”

Cas took a deep, calming breath, “I did come for something. An amulet.”

“An amulet?” Bobby asked, “What kind?”

“Very rare, very powerful. It burns hot in God’s presence. It will help me find him,” the Angel said.

“I ain’t got nothing like that,” the older hunter said thoughtfully.

“I know you don’t,” Cas smiled thinly and cast his eyes back to Dean staring pointedly at the necklace that hung around his neck. “But you do.”

Dean tilted his head and brought his hand to his chest where the small, bronze charm hung. He had worn it everyday for the last twenty years having received it as a Christmas gift from Sam when they were both still children. “This? This is a piece of junk. Some hoodoo charm that Sammy bought from a Hippie.”

“May I borrow it?” Castiel asked quietly.

“No,” Dean said reflexively tightening his hand around the amulet.

The Angel raised his eyebrows at Dean’s defiance, “Dean, give it to me.”

Dean let out a small ‘huff’ and looked over his shoulder at his younger brother. “Fine. I’m letting you borrow it. I’m not giving it to you. I want it back so don’t lose it.” 

Castiel nodded taking the amulet into his palm and staring at it reverently. “I’ll be in touch.” He told them tucking the amulet into his pocket and disappeared. 

“Mr. Singer, I need your signature for your wheelchair delivery.” A delivery man entered the room pushing Bobby’s new wheelchair in front of him. Bobby frowned at the hunk of metal and rubber while he begrudgingly signed the required paperwork.

The next few weeks passed excruciatingly slowly for the Winchesters. They stayed with Bobby for the most part, retro fitting parts of the first floor of his home to be wheelchair accessible. Bobby barked orders and insults as Sam and Dean installed handle bars around the toilet, changed out a tub for a shower with a bench and even widened a few of the more narrow doorways. Once or twice the brothers broke away for a quick hunt, something easy to burn off the frustration of seeing their adopted father so broken. 

Dean was getting back into the habit of drinking too much and occasionally stumbling out of a bar with some unnamed bimbo attached to his arm. Sam was quiet and withdrawn, guilt and sadness weighing heavily on his soul. There had been a few tense arguments over the last few weeks as well. Culminating finally when Dean told him that he didn’t trust him the way that he used to, that he was hurt and let down by Sams betrayal of choosing Ruby over him. He spent most nights awake, staring at the ceiling of his childhood room or Baby’s upholstered roof if Dean brought a ‘special lady’ back to their shared motel room. The nights he did get some sleep he was plagued with vivid dreams. Jess, his long dead girl friend, had begun visiting him. The dreams started innocent enough, Jess’s beautiful face framed by her long golden hair, smiling at Sam as the lay in bed remembering the good times they had had together. The dreams were a welcome distraction and at first he didn’t tell his older brother. Worried that Dean would see them as some sort of sign that Sam wasn’t ok, that something dark still lingered in him. 

“You still haven’t talked to Dean about us?” Jess asked one night. She sat lazily in the bed next to Sam, her head resting on her hand. 

Sam smiled, “What’s there to talk to him about? This is all a dream…a good dream. But it’s not real.”

“Oh come on Sam, you know that’s not the reason,” Jess sat up and smirked at him. “You don’t want Dean to think you’re having those freaky demon visions again. He already doesn’t trust you. Doesn’t really want you around…”

“He’s my brother. We’re family. I’m not gonna give up that things won’t get better. I have to have hope,” Sam sighed sitting up and turning away from her.

Jess sat up behind him, one hand running through Sam’s shaggy auburn hair. “Oh Sammy, things aren’t get better. Not for you.”

“How can you say that?” Sam asked.

“Because you freed me,” Jess’ delicate voice and soft hand were replaced by a calloused grip and cold tone. Sam jumped out of the bed and whirled around. His beautiful Jessica was gone and in her place was a man in his late thirties, his eyes were as cold as his voice and when he smiled gooseflesh broke out on Sam’s skin.

“Lucifer?” Sam choked taking a step away from the bed. 

The stranger smiled and stood up, “Glad you know who I am. You are one tough son of a bitch to track down, you know that?” Sam inwardly thanked Castiel for his warding. “You wouldn’t mind doing me a solid and telling me where you are?”

“Yeah. That’s not gonna happen.” Sam answered all the while willing himself to wake up. “What do you want with me?”

“Sam, you are the reason I walk the Earth. I want to give you a gift.”

“I don’t want anything from you!” Sam shouted taking another step away from Lucifer.

“I want to give you everything…Nick here is plan ‘B’. The guy can barely contain me without spontaneously combusting,” Lucifer pointed at the body he wore. “I need my true vessel.”

“What the hell are you taking about?” 

“Sam, Sammy why do you think you were in that chapel? What do you think it was all about? Azazel, the other special kids, the battle to see who came out on top?” Lucifer asked silkily. “I needed the biggest and the baddest. I needed to find that one in a billion human that could be my Earthly vessel.” Sam shook his head quickly, taking another step back and hitting the wall. “You. Sam. I needed you. You are my vessel.”

Sam felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest, tears fell unchecked from his eyes as the pieces fell neatly together. “No. NO. Not gonna happen.”

Lucifer smilies sadly, “Yes. It will. And when I do find you, Sam, you will let me in. My heart breaks for you, Sam. The weight on your shoulders. I see the fear coursing through you. I can take all that away.”

“You need my consent. I will never give it to you! I will kill myself before that happens,” he promised.

“I’ll just bring you back. As many times as I have to. Please know that I will never lie to you. I will never trick you.”

“Why me?” Sam choked back an angry sob.

The archangel tilted his head sadly to the side, “Because Sam, it always had to be you.” 

Sam choked on another sob and finally shook himself awake. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat and shivered so violently his teeth clacked together. He stared at his hands for several minutes while a mounting sensation of dread built in his stomach. He knew he had to tell his brother and Bobby about this newest revelation. Sam stood on shaky legs and walked out of his cramped room into the second floor hallway of Bobby’s house. Dean ambled out of the bathroom across from him at the same moment, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and rubbing a towel in still damp hair. 

“I’m Lucifer’s vessel,” Sam blurted to his older brother. 

The toothbrush fell from Dean’s open mouth. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered. 

Breakfast was more tense than usual. Bobby sat silently for several long minutes, ruminating over the news that both brothers were Archangel vessels and what this could possible mean for humanity as a whole. Dean said very little; he was determined to complete the small ‘to-do’ list he had made himself which included a ramp leading from the front porch down to the junkyard. Just as he hammered the final nail into the ramp Bobby came careening down. He did a jaunty 360 in the dirt and threw a newspaper at Dean. The younger hunter pursed his lips, annoyed at Bobby’s antics and wiped sweat off his forehead before picking up the paper.

“I figured it’s about time you two go back to work,” Bobby grunted as Dean scanned the article Bobby had circled.

“A bear attack?” Dean asked after a moment.

“Look closer, genius. Guys head was ripped clean off. He was found upstairs, the front door smashed in and no reported bear sighting in or around a five mile radius.” Bobby grunted. 

“What’s up?” Sam asked walking out of the house to inspect the newly christened ramp.

“Bobby’s got us a case…in Wellington, Ohio. Bobby we can’t-“ Dean started.

“Can’t what? Leave me in peace for a god damn minute. I’ve had you two mother hens up my butt for weeks. Git the hell out and go do your damn job for a while.” Bobby barked at the brothers before turning and pushing himself back up the ramp. “Fix this god damn pot hole before ya leave,” he yelled over his shoulder pointing at a dip in one of the boards. Dean passed the paper off to his brother and moved to inspect the board Bobby had bitched about.

****

A million miles away a certain red headed hunter turned over in her sleep, arm outstretched and searching for the warm body that she shared the double bed with. Remembering that once again she was alone River opened her eyes slowly and looked at the empty space. She pulled the pillow Delilah, her now dead girlfriend, had slept on for the last six months close to her face and took a deep breath. The faint scent of lavender still clung to the cotton fabric of the pillow case and a pang sadness hit her.

It wasn’t her turn to wake up early; she had no assigned duties for the day, it wasn’t her turn to man the wall and Susan her only ‘patient’ had safely delivered a healthy baby boy a little past midnight the night before. She closed her eyes against the bright sunlight, pulled the duvet over her head and willed herself to go back to sleep. 

The lull of sleep was just returning when a loud knock sounded at her door. “Winchester!” a gruff voice called out. River grumbled under her breath and burrowed deeper under the duvet. “I’m comin’ in so don’t shot!” The door swung open and in strode Sergeant Major David Davis aka Sarge. He was a man in his mid forties with bright red hair that he kept in an ‘high and tight’ military style buzzcut, a well manicured mustache and goatee framed a strong jaw, and a strong, muscular body filled out the olive green tank top and cammo pants he wore. His intelligent green eyes flicked around River’s sparse room and settled on the lump on her bed. He sat on the edge next to her and let out a long breath. “I know its your day off,” he started. 

River huffed in annoyance from under her blanket, “Then why the hell you waking me up, Sarge?” 

“The scouts are back. Nick wants everyone in front of the gazebo in fifteen minutes for an announcement.” 

“Son of a bitch. I knew this was coming!” River threw the covers off and stared at the man sitting next to her.

“Knew what was coming?” he asked.

River shook her head, “Nothing. Lemme get dressed. Is there coffee?”

“You know it. Now hurry your ass up.” Sarge stood up and left her to get dressed in private.

“Jokes on you, Gabriel. I’ve read this story arc,” River muttered swinging herself out of her bed. She rotated her neck and stiff shoulders and planted her feet on the cool wood floor. Her mind drifted to Gabriel again and she sent him a quick prayer, asking as she usually did for some sign or update of what was happening in the real world, at the very least she just wanted to know that Dean was ok. Gabriel had taken her off that street outside Chucks house and transported her into this little world. He disappeared without a word, leaving her to her own devices and to figure out her own way. She’d quickly figured out she was stuck in “Days Gone By”, a zombie show that was based off a comic series she had read religiously for a couple of years. Her and Dean had only ever caught a few episodes of the show, it was on cable and most of the motels they stayed at didn’t offer the channel. So far things had been happening in relatively the same order that she remembered from the comics giving her an edge over any nasty surprises. 

Living through a zombie apocalypse was by no means a walk in the park, but seeing as though she was a George A. Romero fangirl, read every zombie book and watched every B-Movie zombie flick she could catch River was surviving pretty well. Her knowledge of zombies, medical care and experiences as a hunter had also given her a special set of skills that were highly valued. She carved a niche in this world. She had found a group of like minded survivors, good, decent men and women who wanted to build a life not just survive like scavengers. Their group had found a struggling settlement and joined forces. Together the settlement had started to thrive, they now had over 100 people. River was third in command, the primary medical provider and a valued asset on the scavenging and scouting teams. 

After pouring herself a steaming cup of black coffee she left the house she shared with the six other survivors from her original group. Apparently the word had been spread that Nick was calling an emergency meeting because people walked in small groups towards the garden. River stayed near the back of the group, she already know the gist of the speech Nick was planning to give. She made a beeline for the brick wall that surrounded the back of the settlement, the garden some thirty feet in front of her, a small gazebo was used as the informal stage when important announcements were made. She leaned against the sun warmed bricks, groaning lowly as the heat helped relax the knots in her back, closed her eyes and took a long swallow of her still hot coffee. 

Quiet times like this were when she could allow her mind to wander. She thought about Dean and Sam and Bobby and Ellen and Jo and even Rufus and worried again about what had possibly happened while she’d been stuck away from them. The smell of the leather jacket she wore and the hot coffee reminded her of Dean. The way his hair felt when she ran her fingers through it, the way the green of his changed when he was on top of her, the way his lips felt. A smile tugged at her lips and she continued with the naughty thoughts to pass the time. “What are you thinkin’ about?” a deep, husky voice pulled her from her day dream. River opened her blue eyes and heard Nicks voice echo off the walls. He was explaining to the worried faces around him that their scouts and tracked the bat wielding asshole, Logan and his group of merry men to their hideout. They would strike the ‘Protectors’ in two days time. She turned to look at JT, the scruffy man leaning lazily against the wall to her left and turned her head to the right noticing for the first time Sarge standing there wiggling his bushy red eyebrows at her.

“Must been a good thought, you been standing here for a good ten minutes already makin’ all sorts of funny faces,” Sarge laughed.

River shrugged her shoulders, “If you really wanna know I was thinking about getting my brains fucked out in the back of ’67 Chevy Impala.”

Sarge and JT laughed again. “What would Delilah have to say about that?” 

River bit her lower lip, thinking again about Delilah. The first and probably only woman she would ever be in a physical relationship with. Delilah, whose dark black hair and huge Elizabeth Taylor violet eyes had made her one of the most beautiful women River had ever seen. But it was her dirty sense of humor, their shared love of the word ‘fuck’ and the ability to talk about Tarantino movies for hours that attracted River. They’d moved rather quickly from friends to more than friends, everything moved quickly here when you never knew if you were gonna be eaten at any given moment. “Delilah doesn’t have anything to say. Because she’s dead, Sarge. Put a bullet in her myself, remember?”

Sarge shook his head, “Aren’t you a fuckin’ ray of sunshine?” Nick had stopped talking and the crowd was dispersing. The three comrades could see him striding confidently towards them. Nick Stine was a good man and a great leader. He reminded River of a cross between Dirty Harry and Doc Holiday.

“I ain’t got a Chevy but theres a Toyota Tercel down the street we could have a go in,” JT joked. River threw her head back and laughed, she just might take him up on that offer depending on how the next 48 hours went.


	36. Chapter 36

Ch 36

“So tell me again why the FBI is interested in a bear attack?” Deputy Jones said as he closed the case file and glared at the ‘agents’ in front of him as Sam and Dean tucked their fake badges back into their jacket pockets.

“Maybe it has something to do with one of your locals, the late Mr. Randolph, getting his head ripped off?” Dean grunted.

The sheriff sighed again, “By a bear.”

“A bear that chased Mr. Randolph out of the woods, followed him all the way to his house, busted through the locked front door, up a flight of stairs and into his master bedroom? Does that sound like normal bear activity to you?” Dean asked. Sam cast his brother a sideways glance, they couldn’t afford to tick off the local law this early into the case.

“I don’t know, Agent. Guess it depends on how pissed off they are.” Deputy Jones said crossing his arms over his chest.

“Deputy, the report said Mrs. Randolph witnessed the whole thing is that correct?” Sam asked giving the Deputy a tight smile.

Jones nodded, “Yeah, poor woman my heart goes out to her. They live way up there in high country, trout streams, lots of forrest, bears…”

“And did she say she saw a bear kill her husband?” Sam prodded the Deputy.

Deputy Jones let out another long breath, “Not exactly…she’s been through a hell of a trauma. She’s confused…” 

The brothers shared a quick look and turned back to the deputy. “I think we’d like to speak with Mrs. Randolph directly, Deputy.” Dean said smiling.

Mrs. Randolph was brought in for questioning a half hour later. She was a thin, frightened looking woman with drawn features. She clutched her oversized purse to her chest like it was a life preserver as she sat across from the Winchesters. “Mrs. Randolph we know you’ve been through quite an ordeal but we need to know exactly what you saw,” Sam said gently.

The woman nervously tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and checked over her shoulder to make sure the door to the interview room was shut. “It was a bear…definitely a bear…I mean it’s impossible. It’s crazy…”

“Ma’am, the FBI is here to help you. We’ll be the judge of what’s impossible,” Dean told her.

She nodded and hugged her purse tighter, “I…swear I saw the Incredible Hulk.” Her cheeks burned red and she bowed her head. “I told you it’s crazy…”

“The Incredible Hulk?” Dean repeated, drawing his tongue over his bottom lip, “Bana or Norton? Or who’s the new guy…Mark something?”

“Ruffalo and no it was…the TV Hulk,” she smiled shyly.

“Lou Ferrigno?” Dean said smiling at his brother, “Man I loved that show….would there be any reason The Incredible Hulk umm Lou Ferrigno would have a grudge against your husband?”

The woman gave Dean an incredulous look, “No. Of course not…”

The brothers thanked the newly widowed Mrs. Randolph for her assistance and left the police station a short while later. Dean returned to their motel room to search for any clues to what the hell they were possibly dealing with while Sam went to check out the site of the mysterious murder. The house had a giant 8 foot tall hole where the front door used to be, their were several deep foot prints in the front yard; Hulk sized foot prints. Dean checked into Mr. Randolph’s personal background and found out the man had quite the temper.

“Douche bag had a couple of counts of spousal battery, public intoxication and court ordered anger management courses.” Dean told his younger brother.

“So a hot head getting killed by TV’s biggest hot head,” Sam said thoughtfully. “Sounds kind of like just desserts…it’s all starting to make sense.”

“What about any of this is making sense?” Dean asked. 

“Found something else at the crime scene,” Sam said pulling something out of his jacket pocket. “Candy wrappers.” He dumped the hand full of wadded foil wrappers on the table in front of Dean.

Dean picked up one of the wrappers and inspected it, “Sweet tooth, just deserts, screwing with people before you kill them…we’re dealing with that Trickster asshole aren’t we?”

Sam nodded, “Yeah looks like it…you think he knows about River?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, “Don’t know. Don’t care. Man I’ve been looking forward to ganking this son of a bitch.”

“You sure you wanna kill him?” Sam asked.

“Am I sure I want to kill the asshat that killed me a couple hundred times at the Mystery Spot and kidnapped my girlfriend on a regular basis? Yeah I’m sure.”

“Well, technically I think Riv went with him willingly…most of the time,” Sam took a deep breath, “Maybe we should not…kill him.”

“What?” Dean demanded crossing his arms over his chest.

“He’s a dick. I know. But,” Sam paused again, “He is one of the most powerful creatures we have ever run into. You’ve heard the stories River told us, manipulating time and space. Like a fucking Time Lord.” Dean rolled his eyes at the Doctor Who reference, he gave Sam and River shit about their shared Whovian obsession but secretly had fallen in love with the series after watching David Tennant as the Tenth doctor. “He’s a party guy right, Hugh Heifner fuzzy bathrobe, booze, babes, candy…maybe he doesn’t want the party to end.”

“Ok…” Dean told him.

“Maybe he hates this Angel/ Demon B.S as much as we do. River and him were close; maybe he’ll help us.”

“Son of a bitch, are we really considering allying with a bloody, violent monster just because my dead girlfriend was besties with him?” Dean grumbled.

“It’s the end of the world, Dean. We don’t have the luxury of taking a moral stand here and…River trusted him,” Sam said. Dean still looked conflicted. “If it doesn’t work then we’ll kill him, ok?”

Dean smiled slightly, “How do we find him? I don’t exactly have his number.”

“He’ll show. He won’t be able to resist, town like this I bet has a lot of people he’d like to serve comeuppance to.” 

“Well, I’ll get the wooden stake ready,” Dean replied. Sam turned on their Police scanner and Dean ran to the local hardware store. He took his sweet time picking out the perfect piece of wood to carve into the weapon he hoped to kill Loki with. Dean returned to the motel room to find Sam scrolling through local news stories while simultaneously keeping an ear on the Police scanner. 

“Attention dispatch! This is car 513. We got a possible 187 at the Old Mill on Route 3,” a frantic voice suddenly broke out over the radio. Sam reached for the radio and turned the volume up.

“Come in car 513, this is dispatch. Can you tell me what you’re seeing?” A second voice blared over the radio, followed by a burst of static.

“I-I don’t really know…I can’t….just send help, send everybody!”

The radio returned to static and Sam clicked it off. “That sounded kind of weird.” Dean said inspecting the pointy end of the stake 

“Weird enough for the trickster?” Sam asked. 

Dean shrugged his shoulders, “Guess it’s better than nothing.” Sam quickly typed the address into his phones GPS and the brothers climbed into the Impala and sped away. They arrived at the Old Mill fifteen minutes later and apparently beat the towns scant police force. From outward appearances the mill was long abandoned, the parking lot overgrown with knee high weeds, pot holes every few feet, broken windows and a sagging roof. “There was a murder here? Where the hell’s the Calvary?” Dean asked opening the trunk so he and Sam could grab weapons. They each grabbed a flashlight and a wooden stake and headed into the dark building. 

****

River lounged on the kitchen counter next to the sink grasping her warm coffee mug. Apparently her morning prayers to Gabriel had done nothing more than piss him off because the situation unfolding in front of her was definitely not in the comics she had read.

“Logan’s strong hold is here, surrounded by a wall of the dead,” Nick pointed to a spot on a map he had laid out on the kitchen table. “Sarge, JT, River you’ll flank our position by cutting through this neighborhood.”

“Nick, that neighborhood is overrun with biters. We lost three people the last time we got stuck there. We shouldn’t risk it,” River said. 

Nick glanced over his shoulder at her, “Duly noted, River. But Logan’s men have these roads monitored,” he pointed to a couple more spots on the map. “You’ll set off the fire crackers at the end of Baker street to draw the dead away from his compound.”

“Yeah, ok Nick I get that. But then we’re gonna be boxed in by the Zergs behind us-“ River continued. Nick slammed his fist on the table cutting her off and earning a stern glare from Sarge and a few of the others gathered in the cramped kitchen.

“This way is the only way we are going to be able to cut off his supply route,” Nick turned to face her, one hand resting on his hip right above the giant Colt Python he always carried. “So either you shut up and listen or you stay here and look after Mr. Arnette, I heard he’s gotta bad case of hay fever.” A few quiet snickers broke out amongst the group and River felt her cheeks burn red. She pressed her lips together and gave Nick a compliant nod of her chin. 

“Fuck this place. It’s getting cramped anyways,” River thought to herself and finished her coffee. Nick finished his speech, the groups would head out at dusk giving them ample time to get in position to strike at dawn. Sometime later, after having packed supplies and weapons the caravan left the relative safety of their walled town. 

“Nick didn’t mean anything girly, you know that,” Sarge mumbled as their truck trundled along the weather beaten highway. “He’s just scared of losing more people. After Colin, Stephen and…Delilah. This is the only play we got now.” JT sat next to him in the front seat quietly singing along to the FooFighters CD that was stuck in the stereo. River met his eyes briefly in the rearview mirror and smiled noncommittally. One hand traced circle eights on the dirty car window the other she rested on the M4 assault rifle next to her. She tried not to think about their limited ammo and the wall of dead they were driving into.

****  
Sam and Dean entered the dark building and instantly found themselves in a brightly lit, bustling hospital corridor smelling faintly of antiseptic. The brothers took in their surroundings then looked at each other. “What the hell are you wearing?” Sam asked. He grabbed at the plastic badge hanging off the white lab coat his brother wore. Deans face was a mask of confusion. Two nurses in bright patterned scrubs walked slowly by, each taking their time letting their eyes roam over the Winchesters. “Doctor,” they each echoed giving the brothers a coy smile. 

Dean cocked his head and checked his ID badge again, “No way…” Before he could let his brother in on his potential revelation, a woman in lite blue scrubs came charging towards his younger brother. 

Sam watched her warily as she came to a halt in front of him. Before he could ask her what she wanted she pulled her hand back and slapped him. “You’re brilliant you know that!” she yelled at him.

“Ow!” Sam croaked rubbing his stinging cheek, “What the hell?”

“You are seriously brilliant! And a coward! A seriously brilliant coward!” she yelled jabbing a finger into his chest. With a huff she turned on her heel and stalked away.

“What the hell dude?” Sam grumbled watching the short, angry woman walk away from them. Dean was grinning like an idiot, eyes wide and turning in slow circles as he surveyed their surroundings. He walked past a wooden desk where a middle aged woman was busy directing visitors and answering phones. A large grey metal sign behind her declared they were at ‘Seattle Mercy Hospital’.

“I knew it!” Dean said smiling triumphantly. 

“Knew what dude?” Sam asked.

“Dude! We are at Seattle Mercy Hospital!” Dean pointed at the sign. Sam sighed and rolled his eyes, he was more than capable of reading. “Dr. Sexy works at Seattle Mercy. We are in Dr. Sexy, MD!”

“That stupid show you and River used to watch? The one where the ‘doctors’ spend the majority of the episode screwing each other instead of savings lives?” 

“Yeah!” Dean told him smiling broadly, "Well, I mean I just watched it because Riv liked it.” Dean took a deep breath a sudden feeling of dread replaced the excitement he was trying to hide from his younger brother. “What the hell? What the hell is going on?” He turned away from the desk and walked down an adjoining corridor, groups of people skittered back and forth and Dean realized everyone was exceptionally good looking. “Give me one theory as to what the hell this is?”

“I don’t know…. The trickster trapped us in TV land? Maybe.” Sam said shrugging his shoulders.

“Ok, give me one sane theory,” Dean countered turning down another straight hallway.

“It’s the best I got and you’re the one that said this was ‘Doctor Sexy, MD’,” Sam mumbled. “River told us he zapped her into ‘Land of the Lost’ and she told me one she swore she spent an afternoon in Narnia.”

Dean stopped, “Narnia? I am so going to fucking kill that….oh my god!” He grabbed his brother by the arm and stared down the hallway. “It’s him!”

Sam turned around quickly and saw a man with flowing locks of chocolate brown hair, perfectly tanned skin and a jaw that wouldn’t have been more magnificent if Michelangelo himself carved it from marble.”Him who?” he muttered quickly out of the corner of his mouth.

“Doctor Sexy! Oh my god Sam he’s coming over here, he made eye contact, just be cool. Be cool…Should I ask him for his autograph? No, be cool Dean.” Dean muttered to himself, he straightened his white lab coat and wiped his sweaty palms down the front of it. Sam looked down at his older brother who at this moment was acting very much like his own superfan Becky. 

The gorgeous man stopped in front of them and after exchanging the obligatory ‘Doctor’ greetings, Dean blushing nervously the entire time, Doctor Sexy arched one perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t fire both of you for disregarding my direct order about the experimental face transplant on Mrs. Beale?”

Dean cleared his throat, “Uhh one reason?” His eyes shifted to his younger brother, the ceiling, the wall behind Dr. Sexy and finally the good doctors feet. ”Tennis shoes?” Dean thought to himself. Doctor Sexy definitely did not wear tennis shoes. “You’re not Dr. Sexy!” he yelled slamming the man into the wall.

“You’re crazy!” Dr. Sexy yelled back.

Dean smirked and pressed his forearm into the mans chest. “Oh yeah? Part of what makes Dr. Sexy so sexy are his cowboy boots.” 

Sam rolled his eyes and muttered, “Yeah you’re not a fan.”

“It’s a guilty pleasure. Shut up,” Dean barked over his shoulder. 

“Call security!” Dr. Sexy yelled at a group of nurses that walked by.

“Go ahead lets see what happens,” Dean told him, “I know who you are, Loki.” The group of nurses paused as did every other person within eyesight. They all stopped in mid motion, the hospital instantly became silent. Dean and Sam turned their heads to look at the frozen people around them.

Dr. Sexy smiled, “You two are getting good at this.” Dr. Sexy’s sexy face and perfect hair dissolved in a wisp of smoke. The Trickster smiled up at Dean, his whiskey colored eyes shining with amusement. He grabbed Deans arm and forced the much taller hunter away from him like he was a small child. Dean sneered in pain as Loki tightened his grip. “Whatch’a gonna do, big guy? I don’t see your big pointy sticks.”

“The police scanner? That was you. This is a trick,” Sam sighed.

Loki smiled, “Hello-o-o Trickster!” he said with a waive of his hands. “Come on! I heard you two yahoos were in town. I couldn’t resist.”

“Where the hell are we?” Dean grumbled. 

Loki walked a way with a flourish, “You like it? It’s all homemade. My own sets, actors. My own little idiot box.”

“How do we get out?”

“Well, now thats the $64 question isn’t it?” Loki told him.

“Whatever, look we’re here because we need your help,” Sam said. 

The Trickster tilted his head, “Hmmm. Lemme guess you think because me and that snarky ginger are compadres my handsome ass would swoop in and mop up the shit storm you two started when you broke the world.”

“River’s dead,” Dean told him flatly.

Loki turned to face the green eyed hunter, “Is she? Well, I warned her if she stuck with you two dipshits you’d get her killed again.”

“Just give us five minutes, please.” Sam asked him.

“Sure, you know what? You survive the next 24 hours and I’ll give you five minutes.”

“Survive what?” Sam questioned. 

“The game, Lurch,” Loki smiled. 

“What game?” Dean asked the Trickster.

“You’re in it.” Loki’s smile broadened, his eyes twinkling mischievously. 

“How do we play?” 

“You already are,” Loki grinned, “Toodles.” He snapped his fingers and disappeared. The people around them started walking around as if nothing happened. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean grumbled, “By the way this teaming up with monsters thing? Not a good idea.” 

“What do we do now?” Sam asked.

“I’m finding a way out,” he answered. The brothers quickly found out that getting out of Loki’s idiot box wasn’t going to be an easy task. Before they could find a way out of Seattle Mercy Hospital, Dean got shot in the back by a disgruntled patient. Sam was able to save him, not by using the best high tech medical equipment available in the Pacific North-West but by relying on two decades of life as a hunter which included dental floss, a pen knife and some whiskey. The celebration in the OR was cut short when the walls around them dissolved into static before reappearing as a brightly lit Japanese game show studio. The brothers figured their way out of that and then were transported into a genital herpes commercial, a rom-com, and a variety sketch show a-la Sonny and Cher before finding themselves in a sitcom complete with laugh track and ‘live studio audience’.

 

***

Nick’s plan quickly went to shit, just as River had expected. The dead swarmed from every possible angle. Nick and his car of people disappeared in a bloody spray of screams and bullets. JT was the next to fall, his throat ripped out by something that used to be somebody’s grandma. It still wore a pair of broken reading glasses on a chain around her neck. River turned and ran into the mass of swarming bodies, pushing and dodging past as many of the biters as she could, saving as many bullets as possible. She saw the bright fire-orange head of Sarge stand out amongst the sea of grey-green decaying bodies and rushed towards him. He fought off a group of them with nothing more than a bowie knife, his pant leg drenched in his own dark red blood. His t-shirt ripped were one of the zombies had bitten clean through to the tough muscle beneath. “Sarge!” she screamed at him, “We have to go, now!” 

The retired Marine turned warily to face her, “I’m done for kid. Git the hell outta here.”

“No. No way,” she positioned herself under his arm, carrying the bulk of his weight, “We’re gettin’ the fuck outta here.” They limped quickly past dozens of the dead, headed down an alley that River knew would dump them in the parking lot of an old motel. They could maybe barricade themselves in one of the rooms until things cooled down and then she would decide what to do with Sarge. 

***

“Hey, Sammy! How’re things?” Dean jovially called to his younger brother. The audience cheered and cat called as the taller man strode into their frame.

“Oh you know, it’s just the end of the world,” Sam smiled at the studio audience. They were little more than a group of moving shadows, the bright stage lights hiding their features. The obligatory laugh track sounded and Sam turned away from the audience. Dean had seated himself at the dining table in front of a comically huge sandwich. “You’re gonna need a bigger mouth!” Sam said through a tight smile. More canned laughter echoed through the studio.

“That’s what I said little bro’,” Dean countered.

“How much longer do you think we’re gonna have to do this?” Sam said out of the corner of his mouth.

Dean flashed a grin and took a bite of his huge sandwich. “I don’t know. Maybe forever?” 

Automatic rifle shots suddenly rang from outside the stage door- “dhak-dhak-dhak”. The brothers ducked low and reached for their belts; which were empty of any weapon as usual since being trapped in sitcom hell. Frantic yells, groans, and thumping shook the door on its hinges as someone tried to kick it in. The door finally swung open and a dirty, bloody figure backed in. She fired a few shots of her machine gun before it clicked empty and so she swung it like a bat instead knocking some teetering, dirty thing away. She gripped a bloody, mostly dead man under the arms and was dragging him in behind her. Sam and Dean stood rooted to the spot, they had never seen a sitcom quite like this. Decaying hands and hungry mouths latched onto the man on the ground and he let out a gurgled cry before being wrenched away from her. “NO! Sarge! You dead sons of bitches,” she kicked out at the greedy hands now reaching for her and slammed the door shut. She splayed her dirty hands on the door and screamed in rage, “This isn’t how the story goes! It doesn’t *bleeping* end like this!” Her steel toed boots kicked the door and the studio audience let out a long “oooohhhhhh!”

She turned on her heels to face the sound and the audience clapped, cheered and whistled. “What the *bleep*?” River muttered then threw her hand to her lips when the ‘fuck’ was edited out for the prime time audience. “Bleep-bleeptiy-bleep-bleep,” she tested out the censorship and the audience laughed again.

“River?” a shaky, familiar voice called out.


	37. Chapter 37

Ch 37

River pried her eyes from the camera man wearing a bright red baseball cap that was waiving his hands towards stage left and turned towards the impossible voice. Dean stood fifteen from her, his green eyes huge and disbelieving. He took an unsteady step towards her, Sam stood just behind his older brother shaking his head. “Dean?” Before his name finished rolling off her tongue he was across the room, one hand tangled in her dirty hair the other wrapped around her waist pressing her body into his. He felt how thin she was under the shirt and hoodie she wore, took in the hallow shadow of her cheek bones. He backed them up a few paces until River’s back hit the door and then his lips were ghosting over hers. “How are you here?” he murmured running his lips along her jaw, “Are you real?”

“Of course I’m real. Gods I bleeping missed you.” Her fingers wrapped around the back of his head and she stood on her tiptoes to reach him. The moment their lips locked the audience let out another long ‘oooohhh’ and River broke the kiss to glare at them. “Did you stop her?” she asked staring up into his forrest green eyes.

“Lilith?” Dean shook his head, “No I was too late.”

“Bleep,” she muttered resting her head against the door, "What the bleep is this place? Is that food?” She side stepped Dean and headed towards the dining table. “Sam, you look good. You look so healthy. I’m missed you, you stupid jerk!” she slugged him hard in the shoulder before giving him a quick embrace and sitting down in front of Dean’s giant sandwich.

“That’s got turkey on it babe,” Dean called out as she peeled a manageable layer off and took a huge bite.

She groaned in contentment and washed down the sandwich with a swig of Dean’s abandoned beer, “Funny thing about being in a constant state of near starvation: It’s made me a little lax on my dietary restrictions.” River took another bite and smiled as the brothers joined her at the table. “What the hell is this place anyways?”

“I dunno some bleeping sitcom Loki trapped us in,” Dean answered. 

“Loki? Right, Loki- Have you seen him?”

“We did a few shows ago.”

“A few shows ago?” River set her sandwich down, “Wait…Jesus how are things out there?”

“What? In the real world, same old same old for now. A bunch of natural disasters all happened at once when Lucifer broke out of his cage. Earthquakes, volcanos, couple of typhoons.” Dean muttered. 

“What do you mean for now? Haven’t you been fighting this whole time?” River asked.

“Fighting? There’s nothing to fight, yet,” Dean told her.

“How long- how long has it been it out there since the seal fell?”

“About six weeks,” Sam answered.

“Six weeks? It’s only been six weeks out there,” River said closing her eyes. The amount of information she was trying to process and the questions she wanted to ask were starting to overwhelm her. “I’ve been…it’s been almost two years for me.”

“Bleep, River, what the hell kind of show were you in anyways?” Sam asked quietly.

“ ‘Days Gone By’ the zombie show.” She smiled humorlessly. “All my friends just died.”

“At least they weren’t real.You know? Just more of Loki’s bull-bleep.” Dean told her. “How’ve you survived in here for so long? Me and Sam have been getting our asses kicked.”

River took another sip of the cold beer, “I don’t know. It hasn’t been that bad. Zombies are pretty easy, they’re slow, they usually make a lot of noise, they smell like bleep.” She sighed at the sound that came out of her mouth. “You ever notice how no one in zombie movies knows anything about zombies when bleep hits the fan?” The brothers nodded. “Well, lucky me I got all my useless zombie factoids and put them to good use. Found some people I could trust, built a life, had a really hot girlfriend.” She looked nervously at Dean as the studio audience cheered. 

“A girlfriend?” Dean repeated.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. It just kind of happened and I was happy. That sounds bleeped up but I’ve been happy. I’ve delivered babies, I help people. I really help. I get food and supplies, I help with planning and strategy. If they want to zig I tell them to zag and everything usually goes pretty well…and there’s no other monsters to deal with. That’s the best part. No vampires or werewolves. No demons, no Angels. It’s been almost like a vacation but with zombies and crazy people and a girlfriend. ” River pushed the half eaten sandwich away. It was more food than she’d had in several days .

“You look like a POW, Princess. Eat something.” Dean pushed the plate back towards her.

“We’ve had to cut rations lately. I’m so bleeping hungry but I’m afraid it’ll make me sick.” River looked between the brothers. “How’d you guys find me? I mean G-“ she started coughing and quickly took another sip of beer. Even in TV land Gabriel wouldn’t allow her to say his name in front of others. “Loki zapped me here after I ran from Chuck’s house.”

“We weren’t looking for you,” Dean told her. “I thought you were dead… found your phone and your necklace in a pile of ash. I figured the Archangel smote the crap outta you like he did to Cas.”

“Oh, god is Cas dead?”

“He was, he’s back or around at least. He found us when we were on some wacky ass Japanese game show then he got booted out,” Dean felt his balls seize up at the memory of the giant painful looking metal ball that had been one wrong answer away from cracking him, “Cas’s been out looking for God.”

“What about the rest of the angelic douchebags? The apocalypse is started haven’t they got what they wanted?”

“Not all of it,” Dean answered quietly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked looking between the brothers.

Sam leaned back in his chair, “Dean’s the Michael sword.”

“You’re the what now for who?” The audience thought that was hilarious and they laughed for several seconds.

“I’m Michael the Archangels vessel,” Dean told her. “The Angels wanna use me to kick Lucifers ass back to the pit.”

“Right, of course. Of course,” River shook her head in disgust. 

“Hey it’s not that bad, Sammy’s Lucifer’s vessel,” Dean added.

“Shut the bleep up!” River muttered. “Oh bleep, I’m so sorry. I’ve bleeped up so bad. I didn’t know Dean. I didn’t know about any of this.” She pressed her palms tiredly against her eyes. The door to the room was thrown open again and Cas rushed in, his face beaten and bruised. “Cas!” River jumped up and rushed across the room, “What the hell happened to you?”

“River? You’re alive?” Cas moved as if to embrace the shorter red head but instead grabbed her by the shoulders, “Something is seriously wrong here! What is he?” River shook her head and tried to step away from Castiel.

“Who? Cas, the trickster?” Dean asked.

“It’s not a Trickster. It’s far too powerful,” Cas looked over River’s head at the Winchesters. “River, what is he?” He demanded again.

“I can’t tell you, Cas. Get them the hell out of here,” River urged, “You can not beat him. I’ll deal with him!” Cas’s cornflower blue eyes grew large before he was suddenly thrown across the room and into the wall. 

Loki sauntered onto set with his normal larger than life flourish, the crowd went wild. Laughing and cheering at The Tricksters antics. “Oh come on! Thank you! Thank you!” River backed up and hit a wall of Winchester, Cas stood on shaky legs, his mouth covered in a thick layer of duct tape, his blue eyes shining and huge as he stared at Loki. “Hi Castiel! Bye Castiel!” Loki snapped his fingers and Cas disappeared in a flicker of static.

“Where did you send him?” River demanded.

“Don’t worry, Lemon Drop, I didn’t send him to Zombieland. I canceled that show,” Loki smiled at her. “You did pretty damn good Sugar Cookie. Had a nice little life there didn’t you? Friends, a job, a purpose that didn’t involve these two Hamburglars. Didn’t you say you were happy? I haven’t seen you happy in a long time.”

“You stole two years of my life!”

“Oh come on! It hasn’t really been two years,” Loki took a step towards her and she back further into Deans firm chest. “Look, I’ll make it up to you. Why don’t you go have some cheesecake with the girls?” He snapped his fingers and River disappeared.

Dean threw his hands in the air angrily, “You know what I am done with the games! We get it ok?”

“Oh yeah hot shot? What is it that you get?” Loki asked smiling.

“You want us to play our parts.”

“Half right, Sour Straw. I want you to play your roles out there too!”

Deans forehead creased, “What the hell does that mean?”

“The celebrity death match staring Dean as Michael and Sam as Lucifer!” Loki said pointing at each of the brothers.

“You want us to say yes to those sons of bitches?” Sam yelled in disbelief.

“Hells yeah!” Loki sang, “Lets light this candle!”

“If we do that the world will end,” Sam said.

“And who’s fault is that,” The Trickster said raising his eyebrows at the taller hunter. “You let Lucifer out of the cage. There’s no stopping this party once its started. So lets get it over with!”

Dean shook his head, “Whose side are you on?”

“Excuse me?”

“Michael or Lucifer? Whose ankle are you gonna grab?” Dean said sneering into Loki’s golden-brown eyes.

Loki laughed and took a dangerous step closer to the taller hunter, “You listen to me you arrogant dick, I am on no ones side. I want nothing to do with those two crazy assholes.”

“Oh, you are somebodies bitch alright,” Dean murmured.

Loki grabbed Dean by his shirt, spun him around and slammed him into the door. The Trickster lifted Dean several inches off the floor staring angrily up at him then glanced at Sam challenging him to try and help his brother. “Little word of advice, boys, don’t ever presume you know what I am.” He pressed his fist harder into Deans chest and the hunter grunted in pain. “Now you will go out there and play the roles destiny has given you; Or you will stay in here forever. And forevers a long time when there’s 300 channels and nothing on.” Loki snapped his fingers and he and the set around them disappeared. 

The brothers found themselves in a generic procedural cop show, much to Dean’s distaste. “Are you kidding me? I hate these shows, there’s like a million on TV and there all the same.”

Sam sighed and took in the scene, they were standing in the middle of a park, and area cordoned off with yellow and black ‘Police Line’ tape, a dozen or so uniformed officers roamed around a dead body. “Just relax, we need to keep our heads straight.”

“Relax? How am I supposed to relax? Where the hell is River and Cas now? What the shit do we have to do here and why the hell am I wearing sunglasses at night? You know who wears sunglasses at night?” Dean barked.

“Corey Hart?” Sam asked smiling at his brothers meltdown.

“Douchebags! Sam, Douchebages. The same kind of douchebags that watch these stupid shows,” Dean turned in a tight circle, glancing disinterestedly at the D.B. cooling off on the ground a few feet from him. His eyes flicked from face to face with a hunters practice, taking in the features then dismissing them until he settled on the coroner who giggled at something on his phone while a giant red sucker hung from his lips. “Look at sweet tooth over there.”

Sam turned to follow his brothers line of sight, “Think it could be our guy?” Dean shrugged and they stepped under the tape.

River sat at a cramped table surrounded by three of the funniest women she had ever met; a huge slice of New York style Cheesecake and a steaming cup of black coffee within arms reach. A fourth woman, Sophia, a tiny snarky octogenarian was standing at the stove stirring a delicious smelling pot of tomato sauce. Blanche was halfway through telling the girls about her latest sexual escapade when the scene around her flickered into static and disappeared. River found herself standing in a giant, decrepit warehouse of some sort. “Well hey there sweetheart! Why don’t you join the party?” Deans voice echoed across the empty space and she turned away from the peeling paint that had been a brightly lit kitchen just a moment before. She saw Sam and Dean a few hundred feet away, along with Gabriel who caught in a ring of fire. River swallowed thickly and walked quickly towards the group of men.

“Dean, what are you doing?” she asked quietly, stepping around the flames. They burned brightly but she could feel no heat radiating off of them.

“Nothing. Just wanna see Loki jump outta this ring of holy fire,” Dean said smiling tightly at her.

Rivers eyes drifted from Dean back to Gabriel, “Holy fire?”

“Yeah, fun little fact it can trap Angels. I was just telling Loki here what a bitch it was to get our hands on this little bit. It’d be a damn shame to waste it.”

Gabriels shook his head and smiled ruefully, “Congrats boys! Where did I screw up?”

“You didn’t. Nobody’s ever got the drop on Cas like that. But the way you talk about Armageddon, how pissed you were almost like you were talking about your own family.” Dean smirked.

“Let’s just leave,” River started. The brothers glared at her and she turned towards Gabriel. “God damn it jellybean, you did this to yourself.” Gabriel gave her a sad smile, the fire reflecting in his whiskey colored eyes.

“So which one are you?” Sam asked, “Sneezy, dopey or douchey?”   
“Gabriel, okay? They call me Gabriel.”

Sams jaw clenched and he stared at his brother before they turned their furious eyes back to River. “Gabriel? The Archangel?”

Dean clenched and unclenched his fists, “How long have you known?”

River shifted on her feet, throwing worried glances at Gabriel. She shook her head, “Dean, I-“ 

“How long!” He bellowed.

The tone of his voice and the anger radiating off him caused River to jump, “He brought me back….”

“You’ve had an Archangel on speed dial this whole fucking time!” he screamed again. 

“Dean, I couldn’t…you don’t understand.”

Dean turned away from her in disgust, “Tell me Gabriel, how does an Archangel become a Trickster?”

Gabriel watched as River furiously wiped tears off her face, “It’s my own witness protection program. Skipped out on heaven, got a face transplant and carved out my own little corner of the planet. Made some good friends, had some good times, Lemon Drop here’s not the first. She’s just the one I got the most attached too like that stray cat you feed and then it won’t leave.”

“Fuck you, Gabe,” River muttered.

“Gabe? How fucking cute!” Dean said, “Did you hear that Sammy? She calls the big, bad Archangel Gabe.”

Sam cast her a sideways glance before turning his attention back to the trapped Archangel, “What did Daddy say when you jumped ship and joined the Pagans?”

“Dad doesn’t say anything about anything,” Gabriel mumbled sullenly.

“Then what happened? Why leave heaven?” Sam asked.

“Maybe because his brothers are major douchebags,” River snapped.

Gabriel smiled at her, “I loved my father. I loved my brothers. The five of us, we were close. It was just us and Dad for so long. Watching as He created the universe, then He decided ‘hey lets make more Angels’ and then we were the big brothers to a whole flock of little fledglings just waiting for orders. And then Daddy had the great idea to make you: Humans, weak, fallible, stupid. And He loved you. And He told us to love you above everything else and then He left!” Gabriel took a deep breath as the flames shot towards the ceiling with his anger. “That’s when it started, my brothers arguing, fighting, trying to tear each others throats out. And I couldn’t bear it! Okay! So I left. And now it’s happening all over again.”

“Then help us stop it, Gabriel! Help stop the fighting and the killing,” River yelled.

“It can’t be stopped!” he yelled back.

“Do you want the world to end?” Dean asked.

Gabriel walked along the edges of the flames much like a caged tiger searching for a way out, “I want it to be over! I have to sit back and watch my own brothers kill each other thanks to you two!” 

“It doesn’t have to be that way! There has to be a way to pull the plug!” Sam added watching as Gabriel made another lap around his prison.

He shook his head and his messy blonde hair fell in his eyes, “You don’t know my family! What you call the apocalypse I used to call Sunday dinner.” He paused his pacing and ran his fingers along the flames wincing at the heat. “This is about a war. This is about two brothers that loved each other and betrayed each other. You think you two would be able to relate!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean asked him. He continued to do his best to ignore River, where she stood just a few feet to his left her arms wrapped tight around herself, occasionally wiping an errant tear.

“Oh come on! You sorry sons of bitches!” Gabriel bellowed, “You really don’t know? Why your both vessels for Archangels? Michael, the big brother,” He pointed at Dean, “Loyal to an absent father. And Lucifer,” he turned to Sam, “The rebellious baby brother. You were born to to this boys. It’s your destiny. It was always you! As it is in heaven so it must be on Earth. One brother must kill the other!”

“You knew! You knew the whole time what was coming?” River asked quietly. 

Gabriel turned to face her. “We’ve always known. From the moment Dad turned the lights on around here; it was always gonna be them.” River ran the dirty sleeve of her sweatshirt across her face and eyes and stepped away from the flames. “I wish this was a TV show and we could tie it up nice and easy with a bow. But it’s not and this is gonna end bloody for all of us…” River walked several paces away and stared out at the real sky through a broken window. “So what do we do now? Stare at each other for eternity?”

Dean laughed, “First off your gonna bring Cas back from whatever hellhole you stuck him.”

“Oh yeah? Why would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t then we’re gonna use the last little bit of holy oil we saved and deep fry ourselves an Archangel.” Dean shook the small ceramic jar so Gabriel could hear the slosh of holy oil within. He looked between the jar and the stony faces of the Winchester brothers. He sighed dramatically and snapped his fingers. Castiel appeared behind them panting, covered in sweat, his face scratched and bruised. 

“Cas, are you ok?” River asked turning towards the Angel.

He straightened his blue tie and stared straight ahead, not turning to look at River, “I’m fine….Hello, Gabriel.”

The Archangel smiled at Castiel, “Hey, little bro. How’s the search for daddy going? Let me guess, awful?” Castiel glared at him and remained silent. 

Dean just shook his head and turned away from the trapped Archangel, “Come on, Sam.” He let his angry green eyes flick over River before striding away from her towards the door. 

Gabriel’s amber eyes glowed worriedly as the Winchesters and his brother ignored him. “Sugar Cookie? Hey, Lollipop, come on, without me you wouldn’t’ve met Delilah.”

“Without you I wouldn’t’ve had to shoot her in the fucking head either!” River yelled back.

“Hey, guys? Are you guys just gonna leave me here, forever?” 

Dean stopped at the door and listened to Gabriel’s pleas, “We’re not gonna leave you here. Because we don’t screw with people the way you do. And for the record this isn’t about some prizefight or destiny. This is about you! You being too chickenshit to stand up to your family.”  
He turned back towards the door and punched the glass covering a small red fire alarm, “Don’t ever say I never did anything for you.” He pulled the small switch and the old sprinkler cranked to life, spraying the Archangel and the fire trapping him with stagnant water. The three men left the dank building without sparing Gabriel another glance. River however stayed behind watching as the flames sizzled and died. 

“I just wanted you to see you could have a life without him. He’s gonna get you killed and I’m not going to be there to save you next time,” Gabriel warned.

“You already said it’s gonna end bloody for all of us anyways, Gabe. You’re a few millennia old it’s time you grew the fuck up,” River told him. He shook his head sadly and disappeared. She exited through the same door the others had taken, a sick feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. She was sure Dean was going to ream her for lying about Gabriel. River blinked several times at the sudden brightness of the midmorning sun when her eyes finally focused she saw the Impala parked about fifty feet away. Sam and Cas stood to the side, Dean was bent over the open trunk rooting around for something. 

She smiled nervously as she approached them, “I-I can explain.” 

Dean stood up and faced her. The bright sunlight did nothing to mask how gaunt she looked, she’d probably lost nearly thirty pounds since the last time he had seen her. Even under the layers of clothes she wore, Dean could see most of her soft curves had been replaced by tense muscle and hard angles. A body she never wanted but had gained from a fitness regime she and Delilah had coined ‘zombie crossfit’. He had her ratty old duffle bag grasped in his arms. “I kept your shit, thinking, hoping that this was some bad dream. I’d wake up and you’d be there.”

“Dean-“

“You lied! You’ve been lying to my face for fucking months!” He bellowed. “You’ve had an Archangel in your back pocket this whole god damn time!”

“I didn’t,” River started.

Dean took a step towards her, “Don’t give me that shit! I watched Sam almost destroy himself, Cas fell for us, I’ve had Zachariah leading me around by the dick and you-you knew he was-“ He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I fucked up. I get that but this?” he shook his head. “I can’t trust you. I can’t trust a god damn thing you’ve ever said to me. You’ve been jet setting with that selfish ass while the world is catching fire.”

“Dean, don’t. Please. Please let me explain,” River begged, tears falling unchecked from her scared blue eyes.

Dean threw her duffle bag at her catching her off guard and causing her to stumble back a few steps. “Just…just go. Lose our numbers. Enjoy life with your Archangel pal until the world ends.”

River dropped the bag and rushed to his side, “Please don’t do this. Just let me talk- I didn’t know. I didn’t know about you and Sam being vessels. I didn’t know about Lilith…I’ve tried to get him to help us.” Dean just shook his head and pulled his hand out of her grasp. “Sam? Castiel? Don’t do this! After everything we’ve been through? Zeppelin and Bowie? Fucking Ana and all the other shit and this? This is it? ” she turned back to Dean. “I love you and you’re just gonna walk away?”

“No, I’m not gonna walk away. I’m gonna drive away,” he told her quietly. Sam and Dean climbed into the Impala without another word. 

“Cas, I’m sorry. You three are all I have,” Her voice cracked as she pleaded. She held a hand timidly out to the Angel. He stared at her a moment longer before disappearing. The Impala roared to life behind her and she stood helplessly watching as Dean left her in the rearview mirror.


	38. Chapter 38

Ch 38

A week later River found herself sitting in a secluded corner of a crowded coffee shop. She was sipping her fourth large coffee of the day while utilizing the shops free WiFi to search for cases. There had been a few potentials: a haunting in Dayton, mysterious disappearances in Lodi, and a possible Skin-Walker near Albuquerque. The reason she didn’t pursue any of those cases was because she had exactly $10 to her name after her caffeine fix and hadn’t settled on an endeavor that didn’t involve robbing a bank to refill her wallet with gas money. Things had been a hell of a lot easier when she able to drop into a town and work as a nurse; money being magically deposited into her bank account the moment she clocked out after a twelve hour shift. Except she no longer had a legitimate nursing license or even a bank account since she had been suspect number one in a string of serial killings and then ‘died’ in an explosion along with Dean and Sam. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, her thoughts stuck in a useless circle of blame and doubt. She had picked up her phone at least twenty times a day since Dean had driven away with the intent on calling him and begging him to hear her out. In the end she did as he asked and deleted their numbers from the small flip phone she kept as a backup in the bottom of her duffle bag. 

The phone was now plugged into the outlet under the table along with her laptop. She might as well take the opportunity to make sure everything was charged before she would inevitably have to leave the shop. The phone buzzed suddenly, startling her. She picked it up smiled seeing the caller ID. “Hey Mama E.”

Ellen Harvelle sighed heavily on the other line, “I should drive to wherever you are and kick your ass.”

River smiled, “Miss you too, Mama. What’s up?” She took a long sip of her lukewarm coffee and let her eyes trail over the patrons of the coffee shop. River ran her fingers along the lollipop charm back around her neck. She had found it tangled up in the bottom of her bag and had put it back on immediately. She didn’t know how much she trusted Gabriel anymore since his lies and half-truths but she was certain the necklace would still offer her some protection from Angels and Demons. 

“I gotta job. Might be nothing, might be something.” Ellen continued, “Wanted to see if you want in.”

“You want to work a case with me? You think you can trust me?” River asked her quietly.

Ellen sighed again, “ Are you tryin’ to warn me? Me and Jo can’t trust you no more?”

“No, of course you can trust me, I just- things are kind of fucked up right now,” she mumbled.

Ellen laughed, “Hey Jo, did you know things were kind of fucked up?” she yelled on end of the line. Jo hollered “No shit” and River smiled. “You want in or what? I ain’t got all day.” 

“Yeah I want in? What is it and where?”

“River Pass, Colorado. Shooting star crashed last week outside of town. We’ve been seeing some pretty strange occurrences, the river near towns been running red, reports of an increase in violent crimes and this morning my contact inside the town stopped communicating. I can’t reach him. We’re two days out if we hustle. Can you make it?”

River thought for a moment, if she had money enough for gas she could make it by late tomorrow. “Yeah, I’ll figure something out. I’ll see you there. Thanks Mama E.” She snapped the phone shut and thought again. Maybe just steal cars along the way every time she ran out of gas? Her eyes traveled along the coffee shop again, settling on the bulletin board. She’d read the sign a dozen times and put in the back of her mind. “Fuck it,” she muttered. She stood up, walked to the flyer covered board above the cream and sugar, pulled the photocopied sign off and tucked it into her pocket, “$1000 grand prize! Open Pole night! Winner takes all!” She quickly tucked her belongings back into her duffle bag and left the coffee shop, she needed to hustle across town to register and figure out something to wear, do her hair and make up and win that mother fucking prize money. 

The club closed at 2:00am. River was exhausted but also thrilled. It had been almost seven years since she had had to dance for money; the night started a little shaky but once she hit her rhythm the moves flowed and she walked out $1000 richer. It wasn’t her ideal career but suddenly things didn’t seem as shitty if she could still have some money in her pocket for essentials like food and ammo she thought to herself as she hot-wired a car from a dark parking garage and sped toward Colorado. 

She arrived in the small town a little before dusk the next day. The only way in or out of town was a bridge over a trickling river. She noted the pale red tinge that still clung to the water as she drove over the cement bridge. A sick feeling hit her in the gut the moment she parked the car in the town center, no one was out enjoying the mild evening, shops and restaurants were shuttered and closed. She sent a quick text to Ellen, praying that it made it when she saw the one lone bar on her cellphone flickering. River shouldered her duffle bag, comforted by the weight of her shotgun and the feel of the cold metal of her pistol against her back. The town had one small bed and breakfast and thats where she headed to get a room and set up a base while she waited for the Harvelles to arrive. 

There was no one waiting at the small front desk, no sound from any where in the house when she entered. Her eyes wondered over the tacky country decorations before settling on the small silver bell sitting on the desk. River stepped forward and tapped her finger quickly on the button on top of the bell. The ‘ding’ echoed in the house and she felt the tiny hairs on top of her neck stand up. She slung her duffle onto the floor and reached behind her, wrapping one hand around her pistol. Heavy footsteps sounded from a closed room to her left. The door was flung open and a man charged out swinging a baseball bat. River had just enough time to see the angry flash of black eyes before she unloaded her clip into his chest. The demon fell to the ground dead, no black smoke, no flash of orange light. “What the fuck?” River muttered poking the corpse with the toe of her boot. The body stayed dead and she let out a long breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She walked around the desk to try the land line phone, she needed backup now. She quickly dialed Ellen’s number and the older woman answered on the second ring, “How close are you?”

“ ‘bout six hours away.” Ellen answered quickly.

“We’re gonna need back up. You know Rufus Turner?” Ellen did. “Call him, I’ll meet you at the Cozy Cottage when you get he-“ A huge explosion went off, jolting the house on it’s foundation. The line instantly went dead and River ran out of the house towards the orange fireball visible against the setting sun. She skidded to a halt and saw the remains of the bridge into town crumble down into the river bed below. Several shadowed figures turned away from the wreckage and saw River standing in the middle of the street. “Shit,” she muttered before turning and running back towards town.

Dean and Sam returned to Bobby’s after their escapades in TV hell. They’d told Bobby about Gabriel and River. Bobby had been furious at them for leaving River and hadn’t spoken to either brother in three days. He rolled around the house sullenly or sat at his cluttered desk rereading the same archaic tomes. Dean was stuffing clean clothes into his duffle bag when he heard Bobby’s cellphone ring. He and his brother were heading towards a possible werewolf attack in Wyoming. “Rufus?” Dean turned towards Bobby’s loud voice, “I can’t hear you man? Where are ya?…River Pass, Colorado? Rufus? What’d ya say?…Demons. Damn it, the line went dead!” Bobby slammed the phone down on the table.

The brothers looked at the older hunter then each other. “Guess we’re going to Colorado,” Dean smirked. The town they found was in much worse shape then what River had stumbled into four days prior. Cars were overturned in the streets, belongings lay abandoned where they had been dropped, house lay empty the doors open. They found a few bloated bodies and lots of dried puddles of blood. “I don’t think we brought enough guns,” Dean muttered as he and his brother walked down the silent main street. They walked past a cherry red 1966 mustang and Dean whistled appreciatively at the beautiful car. The brothers were distracted by the scene around them and didn’t notice the figure sneaking up from behind a parked car. The cold click of a pistols hammer made them do an abrupt about-face, weapons raised. “Ellen?” Dean said surprised. 

The older woman smiled, squinting against the early morning sunlight, “Hello, boys.” 

“What the hell is going on here, Ellen?” Dean asked her. She stepped forward still smiling instead of answering she threw a flask of holy water in his face. Dean signed loudly as the water dripped down in his face and soaked his t-shirt, “Every god damn time…We’re us.” 

Ellen nodded and put the safety back on her pistol, “Follow me.” She walked quickly down the street and headed for the white church at the end of the block. They entered the quiet church, the doorway lined with salt and a devils trap. “Church is warded up pretty good…” Ellen paused at the top of a staircase that twisted down into darkness. She took a deep shuddering breath and turned to face the brothers. “Real glad to see you boys,” her bottom lip shook and she pulled Dean into a tight hug. She stood back smiling then slapped him across the cheek, “The can of whoop ass I ought to open on you! It’s been what? Eight or nine months since you’ve been back and you can’t pick up the damn phone! I already let River have it but you two…” she turned away from them and headed down the stairs.

“Rivers here?” Dean asked shooting a look over his shoulder at his younger brother.

“Who do you think did all this shit?” Ellen waived her hands at the sigils spray painted all over the walls. Dean grunted and followed Ellen down the stairs. 

“So whats goin’ on, Ellen?” Sam asked as they descended into darkness, a battery operated lantern was the only faint light as the staircase took another turn.

“Demons. Lots of ‘em. More than we can handle,” Ellen answered. “Pretty much the whole town. Except the dead ones. And these guys…River had most of ‘em squared away down here by the time we rolled in.” Ellen paused at a door at the bottom of the stairs another devils trap, more salt and large intricate signs and latin words were written across the door frame. “So this is it right? End times?”

“Seems like it,” Sam answered quietly. 

Ellen nodded and turned towards the door, she gave three quick knocks and a make shift peephole was slid open, “It’s me.” She told the person on the other side of the door. The door was opened and the brothers and Ellen walked into the makeshift shelter. A dozen or so scared faces watched as they entered. Candles and more lanterns flickered around the cold room. “This is Sam and Dean, they’re hunters. They’re here to help.” Sam and Dean nodded politely to the survivors who watched them warily.

“You guys hip to the whole demon thing?” A young man cradling an assault rifle asked.

“Yeah, you?” Dean answered.

A man sitting at a table nodded his head, he took his wire rimmed glasses off and wiped them on his shirt, “My wife’s eyes turned black then she came at me with a brick. Kind of makes you embrace the paranormal.” Towards the back of the room a red headed figure kneeled in front of a cot, a very pregnant woman lay on top breathing slowly and rubbing her swollen stomach. A few more murmured words and the figure stood and turned towards Ellen and the Winchesters. Dean’s jaw immediately tightened and made a point to look everywhere but her. River pointed to a secluded corner and Ellen led the boys. “How’s Amy?”

River sighed, “She having Braxton-Hicks, practice contractions. She’s due any day.” She said wrapping her arms around her self, she was cold, she was always freaking cold lately.

“Can you help her deliver if she does go into labor?” Ellen asked.

River nodded, “I need supplies. We’re running low on everything.”

“How about you catch us up first?” Dean said quietly.

“Doubt we know much more than you. Me and Jo were headed into town to investigate some omens. Called River invited her along for the party,” Ellen began, “She beat us here by half a day or so. Some demons blew up the bridge, took out the phones. Then the whole damn town was possessed. I was able to call Rufus and give him heads up.”

“You’re hunting with Jo?” Dean asked.

“Yeah for a while now…we got to town a couple of days ago found River. Never did find Rufus, figure he’s gotta be here somewhere.”

“Rufus called Bobby, so he was alive as of yesterday,” Dean told Ellen and River.

“Where is Bobby?” River asked. Sam and Dean exchanged a look, they hadn’t got around to telling River about Bobby’s injury.

“You two didn’t tell her?” Ellen said putting her hands on her hips and looking like she was about to open another can of Harvelle whoop-ass.

“Bobby got possessed right after that night,” Sam began. “He got hurt, bad. He’s paralyzed from the waist down.”

River brought one hand to her mouth disbelieving, “But why didn’t Cas-  
“Heal him?” Dean started, “Cas is cut off from the heaven juice. Here’s a thought, how ‘bout you call Gabe and get him to fix Bobby.” 

River’s cheeks flushed pink and she looked at her feet, her eyebrows drawn together. She hadn’t seen or heard from Gabriel and didn’t think she would anytime soon. “Yeah, well, if I find him or he ever answers one of my prayers again I’ll ask him.”

“Where is Jo?” Sam asked breaking the uncomfortable silence that settled over them.

“Me and Jo went for a milk run late yesterday, we got separated,” River said quietly. 

Dean sighed and Sam glanced back at the survivors. “You got all these people here?” 

River nodded, chewing her bottom lip, “There was a lot more but…”

“What happened?” Dean asked.

“We made a run for it. Right after Jo and Ellen got here. There used to be 20 of us…” River said.

“Shit,” Dean murmured, “Well I say we try again, we need to get these people the hell out of here.”

“How? Even if we did run I don’t think Amy could make it,” she glanced at the pregnant woman now asleep on the cot.

Sam rubbed his chin, “We arm everybody. One of us can carry baby bump, we get ‘em to the bridge at least.”

Dean nodded, “There’s a sporting good store we passed on the way in, I bet they got guns. You said you need supplies anyways. We get guns, ammo, salt, whatever else you need.”

River agreed, “Mama E, we’ll go. You stay here.”

“We don’t need you. We got it covered,” Dean said turning back towards her.

River scoffed and shook her head, “Ok, so you know where the general store is? And the vet office which might have some of the stuff I’ll need if Amy does go into labor?” Dean shifted on his feet. “That’s what I thought. I’m coming and you can suck it up. We all make it out of this alive and I’ll be the first outta this shit hole town, trust me.” She slung a backpack on and gripped her shotgun in one hand.

River led the way out of the shelter and waited for the brothers at the foot of the stairs. The door shut behind them and they heard something heavy being pushed against it. “I’ll go for the vet office. Stores down the street, they should have salt. You already know where the guns are.”

“We’ll all go together,” Dean said. 

River and Sam stopped and turned back towards Dean. “Dean we need to hurry.”

“We’re not splitting up,” he said stubbornly staring at his brother.

“What? Is this about the demons? You don’t trust me around demons?” Sam asked. Dean sighed.

“ I don’t have time for this bullshit. Meet me back here in 10 minutes,” River said pushing past Dean and running down the street towards the Vet office. Dean muttered under his breath as he and his brother went their separate ways to gather the other supplies. River quickly filled her back pack with dressing supplies, IV fluids, antibiotics and anything else she thought the survivors may need. 

Sam entered the quiet general store, the rank smell of curdled milk and spoiled food hung in the air. He grabbed boxes of protein bars, some aspirin and then found the aisle containing cartons of rock salt. Sam had just grabbed the last jar of salt when the bell on top of the door jangled, signaling someones entrance into the store. He looked up at the curved security mirror and saw two strangers slink in. Their pitch black eyes clearly visible in the reflection. The two demons hurried to the now defunct cooler and grabbed cans of brightly colored energy drinks. The closest demon was less than ten feet in front of him, the Demon blade was within arms reach on top of a row of canned peaches where he’d set it down to grab the salt. Sam grabbed for the knife and inadvertently knocked one of the cans onto the dull linoleum floor. The can made a hallow ‘thunk’ and rolled away. The demons spun on their heels away from the cans of carbonated caffeine and sprang at the giant hunter. Sam was by far the more skilled fighter and within half a minute the demons lay dead at this feet. Their blood slowly spread out in long red rivulets along the slick floor and glistened tantalizingly at the end of the Demon blade. Sam ran his finger along the edge, collecting a few precious drops on the tip of his finger. He stared transfixed at it for several seconds until the bell over the door signaled another intruder. 

“Sammy!” Dean yelled. His shoulders weighed down by the heavy bags of guns and ammunition he had commandeered from the sporting store. Sam quickly stood to his full height so his head was easily visible over the metal shelves of grocery items. “You get the salt?” He stopped in his tracks and stared at his brother and the dead demons at his feet. Sam’s jaw clenched and he wiped the blood off the blade before tucking it into his jacket.

River returned from the Vet office and stood in the street, the Wonder boys had exactly 45 seconds to get their happy asses back or she was leaving without them. The seconds ticked away and she turned back towards the church. “You get your stuff?” Dean called to her back. 

“Yep,” she turned back around avoiding looking either brother in the eyes and instead focused on the heavy bags they both carried. “Are we really gonna aim Mayberry against a bunch of demons?” The brothers nodded. “Well alright then. Fuck it dude, let’s go bowling.” They spent the next few hours teaching the frightened survivors how to safely handle the guns Dean had procured. River knelt beside Amy, the mother to be, and showed her how to use a hand gun. Ellen paced restlessly, watching the men and women fumble with the guns, drop rock salt filled shells and clumsily aim the weapons.

“I’m not staying here while my daughters still out there,” she said finally. “Get these people out of here. I’m going after Jo.”

River walked to Ellen’s side and placed a hand on her arm, “I’ll go with you. You shouldn’t go out there alone.”

Ellen shook her head, “Amy needs you. If something happens you should be here with her.”

“Then I’ll go,” Sam piped up. 

Dean glared at his brother, “Can I talk to you for a minute?” He pulled his younger brother aside and the shared a muted conversation. River and Ellen looking at each other briefly before turning away from the brothers. “You don’t need to go out there. I’ll go with Ellen. You stay here with the Howdy Doodie bunch.”

“Again? Really? Just can’t trust me to be around some demons?” Sam hissed, “Think I’ll fall off the wagon?”

“Will you?” Dean asked.

“I just want to do my job, Dean.” His brother stared at him a moment longer before relenting. A few minutes later Ellen and Sam left the safety of the churches basement. Dean stared at the closed door for several minutes before turning away and coming face to face with River.

“Dean-“

“Nope,” he said cutting her off.

“Can I just-“ Dean pushed angrily past her and inspected the rock salt filled rounds that were sitting on a table. “Will you stop being so fucking childish. You’re pissed I get it.” He turned back towards her, his brow furrowed. Several of the people sitting around the table had stopped and turned towards them. He grabbed her by the arm and led her forcefully to a dark corner of the basement.

“I’m pissed? Hell yeah I’m pissed! You fucking lied to me! To all of us. You had Gabriel on your shoulder while we were chasing our god damn tails.” His growled.

“He never told me about any of this shit about Michale or Lucifer. He told me if the other angels found out about him, found out that he resurrected me they would kill all of us. Including you and Sam,” River told him quietly. “He wouldn’t let me tell you. I tried…this stupid necklace protects me from other Angels poking around in my head but I couldn’t even say his name. I couldn’t tell you anything he didn’t want me to.”

Dean shook his head angrily, “I don’t care. I trusted you…I laid it all out for you. And you still lied to me. You chose him over us. Over me.” 

River wiped tears off her face, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not good enough,” he replied throwing her words back at her. 

“You know what Winchester, fuck you. I’ve stuck by your side. I ran back and forth across the lower 48 trying to save you. I summoned a fucking goddess of death to try and get you back. And you fucked three, three other women behind my back…,” River's angry blue eyes stared up at him, “You left me alone. With half a clip in my gun and nothing else. Every god damn angel and demon on the planet knows who I am and you assholes left me to fend for my fucking self. But I can fend for myself and I forgot that. I forgot that I could survive on my own but Gabe reminded me. I don’t need you or Sam or Cas or anyone else.” She pushed past him to check on how the civilians were doing with their crash weapons course.

“River, wait a minute,” Dean reached out for her. 

She shook his arm free snarling “Eat a dick” and stormed off. Three loud knocks sounded at the door and one of the men at table rushed towards. After checking the peephole it was swung open. Ellen hurried in a moment later, Sams huge presence glaringly absent.

“Where’s my brother?” Dean barked over the crowd.

Ellen shook her head and sat wearily at the table, “We got surrounded by demons. They took him.”

Amy sat forward, “What if the demons get in here? Are we even safe?”

“We’re safe in here, ok. Don’t panic. They can’t get it in here,” River told her calmly. 

Dean cursed under his breath grabbing a shotgun and box of shells off the table. He wrapped his hand around the doorknob ready to run into the storm looking for his brother. He stopped and took a long breath before muttering another angry curse. “Ok look, we need to get a damn plan together. And you need to tell me everything!” Dean turned back towards Ellen and River and sat at the table opposite them.

“There’s a house about six blocks from here, we saw smoke comin’ from the chimney,” Ellen started shakily taking a sip from a cool bottle of water. “We got jumped by a couple of demons. Jo was with them.”

“Is she possessed?“ River questioned quietly.

“Yeah, we gotta that demon outta my daughter without hurting her,” Ellen said shaking her head, “She called me a bitch.”

“She didn’t mean it,” River told her.

“No…she called me a black-eyed bitch,” Ellen clarified. “What the hell kind of demons are these? Holy water and salt roll right off of ‘em.” River and Dean sat quietly their faces lit by the flickering candles on the table in front of them. 

“There’s a lot of wrong going on around here,” River said after a moment. “I don’t get it. I feel like we’re missing something obvious.”

Dean sighed and sat back in his chair, “Why’d you pick this town in the first place?”

“Omens,” Ellen answered. 

“The river was running red,” River added. 

“When?”

“Last Wednesday,” the churches Pastor, Aaron, answered. “The demon thing started the next day.”

“That would’ve been Thursday. I got here late Friday. That’s when they blew the bridge and the phones went down.” River told him. 

Dean nodded, “Anything else?”

A few survivors had gathered around the small table. “Maybe, but it’s kind of random,” Anthony, a young Iraq war Vet said.

“Randoms ok,” River encouraged.

“There was a shooting star, really big landed just by the river outside of town. Set off every car alarm in town.”

River chewed her bottom lip again and looked across the table at Dean, “End of days.” 

Deans eyes grew wide at the reference and he ran to the bookshelf that was leaning against the wall. He ran his fingers down the spines of several books before he found the old leather bound, gold trimmed book. He flipped through the thin pages until he reached the back of the book. “And there fell a great star from heaven, burning like a torch and it fell upon the river, and the name of the star was Wormwood and many men died.”

Pastor Aaron ran trembling fingers over the silver cross handing from his neck, “Revelation 8:10. Are you trying to say this about the Apocalypse?”

River tilted her head slightly, “Yeah I think we are.”

“These signs are a prelude to what exactly?” Ellen asked.

“The four horsemen.” The Pastor answered. River cursed under her breath.

“Which one rides the red horse?” Dean asked suddenly remembering the car he and his brother had passed on the way into town.

“War,” River answered. “Shit…” she muttered again, “You see that car on main?”

Dean nodded, “The cherry red mustang?”

The Pastor stared at them disbelieving, “You can’t really think a car-“

“It’s the way I’d roll,” Dean answered. “Think about it all makes sense. If War is a dude and he’s here-“

“He’s messing with our heads. Jo called you a black eyed bitch, we already know the salt and holy water’s not working. No black smoke when they go down,” River said looking between the other two hunters.

“We think they’re demons, they think we’re demons.” Dean sighed.

“We’ve just been killing each other…fuck. I’ve killed six people,” Rivers eyebrows drew together. “Zombies are so much fucking easier than this shit.”

“Wait a minute, are we really talking about the Apocalypse? And zombies? The Pastor yelled again.

“No not zombies, not yet anyways," River sighed again, “You got the Apocalypse play by play manual right here. Might wanna bone up on it.” She slid the thick book across the table. “So there’s no demons, what the shit do we do now?” Before Dean could answer someone started franticly pounding on the door.

“Let me in! Let me in! It’s me, Roger!” a muffled voice echoed from the hallway outside the door. River stood up and searched the survivors faces quickly. Roger’s and his stark white hair and thick coke-bottle bottom glasses were missing from the crowd.

“Son of a bitch! When he did leave?” River yelled as Dean ran to the door. He swung the door open and Roger stumbled in, panting and shaking. 

“The demons! The demons are coming!” he wailed in a high pitched tremble. A chorus of frightened cries rose up from the other survivors. 

“Everybody relax!” River called over the cacophony. “Roger where the hell did you go?”

He took his glasses off and wiped the grime on his suit jacket, “I went out. Someone had to! To see what was happening out there. I ran into a group of demons and they’re coming here and they’re gonna kill all of us!” More screams, Amy grasped her protruding stomach and grimaced. 

“You just said this wasn’t a demon thing!”

The hunters stood shoulder to shoulder and exchanged a wary look. “Listen to us! There are no demons!” Dean yelled.

“They are gonna come here and kill us if we don’t kill them first!” Roger shouted.

River stepped forward and raised her hands placatingly, “No, no. That’s not gonna happen. We all need to calm down and think!”

“No, it’s time to make a stand. No more talking. All the able bodied need to grab a weapon and follow me!” Anthony commanded. Several people shook their head in agreement and began grabbing guns off the table.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow your roll GI Joe and listen!” Dean looked between the paranoid faces, the lantern light reflecting several pairs of wide glistening eyes. His green eyes settled on Roger who stood near the back of the group smiling like the cat that just caught the proverbial canary. He raised his hand at Dean, showing a glinting gold ring on his finger. 

Roger twisted the ring and then pointed at the hunters, “Oh my god ! Look at their eyes! They’re demons!” The hunters took a defensive step back. The survivors screamed and shrank away from their pitch black eyes. Anthony and a few others raised their guns. 

Dean turned towards the women behind him and pushed them towards the door, “GO! Run now!” River ripped the door open and pushed Ellen through. The three of them ran up the stairs barely missing being blown apart by a shotgun blast. They ran for several blocks before stopping. 

“Ok, ok. Shit!” River mumbled turning in a quick circle, “Where did you and Sam get cornered?” 

Ellen checked the street signs and pointed west, “There at the end of the road there’s a big old farm house.” They nodded and headed towards the farm house.

They signaled silently to each other and flanked the house, Ellen taking the back side, River and Dean taking the front porch. Dean tried the first large window he came to, the faint click of Rufus’ booby trap made both their hearts freeze. Dean had a split second to thrust himself away from the window, crashing on top of River trying his damnedest to block both of them from the exploding glass. The smoke cleared and River took a painful breath in, Dean’s heavy body pinning her to the rough wood of the porch. She tried to push him off but he lay dazed and non-compliant. “Come on Winchester. Get your heavy ass off me,” She grunted finally pushing him up enough so she could roll out for underneath him. He sighed and shook his head trying to clear the ringing. Before he could gather all his senses River scrambled up and dove for the smoking hole that used to be the window. She rapped her hands around a protruding rifle barrel and pulled. Rufus came tumbling out of the window caught off guard by her sudden attack. The old hunter pulled a bowie knife from somewhere within the folds of his jacket and swung it’s deadly edge at Rivers face. She stumbled back away from the knife yelling, “God damn it, Rufus! It’s me!”

“You demon bitch!” he growled swinging the knife again. To him, Dean and River’s eyes shone black and soulless. The sharp tip was driven into the floor boards a millimeter from Rivers left ear. Dean finally got his limbs to cooperate and pushed himself towards River and the older hunter. He grabbed Rufus by the jacket and in one smooth movement swung him off River and into the wall.

“Rufus, you mean old bastard, listen!” Dean yelled into his face, slamming him into the wall, “The omens! Think about it! WE ARE NOT DEMONS!” Rufus continued his struggle, landing a few good punches before getting the leverage to push Dean away.

“Go to hell!” He yelled. He reached into his jacket trying to grab some other hidden weapon. River kicked him quickly in the knee, driving the older man down then jumped on top of him.

“Rufus! Listen to us! The river, the star! The red fucking Mustang! It’s WAR!” River yelled in his face. 

Rufus got one arm free and punched her in the nose, “Hell yeah this is war!”

“Fuck!” she screamed falling sideways and cupping her bleeding nose.

Dean was there in an instant to take her place. “The Horseman, you jackass!” he yelled.

Rufus blinked twice, “The horseman?” His struggles dropped by an octave.

“Yes, He’s turning us against each other!” Dean shook him for good measure, “You are hallucinating!” Rufus blinked again and the horseman’s spell was broken. Dean’s green eyes came into focus.

He turned his head and saw River’s blue eyes looking back at him as she pinched the bridge of her nose trying to staunch the bleeding he had caused. “The horseman?” the older hunter took a long breath, “Glad you’re still the brains of the operation.” River spat a mouthful of blood onto the wood porch and flipped him off. She stood up and brushed glass shards and dust off her jacket.

“Shit, they’re coming.” River pointed to a group people running down the narrow road towards them. From what they could see each of the men and women were carrying a pistol or rifle. Anthony, the young Iraq Vet was in the front of the group throwing hand signals and yelling orders. They rushed inside and were once again face to face with the barrel of a shotgun. This time being held steadily by Ellen Harvelle. Jo stood behind her mother watching Rufus, Dean and River warily.

“We all on the same page?” Ellen asked thumbing the safety off the shotgun.

“Yeah Mama E.” River said shutting the door behind them. “We got company.”

“Where the hells my brother?” Dean asked. 

“Upstairs,” Jo answered. Dean rushed towards the stairwell, a bullet ricocheted off the wall a few inches from his head. The hunters dove to the ground as Dean continued up the stairs. 

“We need to find War before we all kill each other!” River hissed as another bullet hit the wall to her left. The brothers came running down the stairs a moment later.

“We got an idea,” Dean rushed, crouching low under a window before chancing a glance outside. “The ring Roger was wearing. We need to get it.”

“Ok, yeah sure. Maybe we should stop everyone from shooting first?” River yelled. The hunters dispersed through the house and outside trying to get the townspeople to listen and stop killing each other. River rushed to the front lawn where Pastor Aaron lay bleeding from a gunshot to his shoulder. He screamed and tried shoving his silver cross in her face. “Will you knock that shit off! I’m trying to help you.” She swatted his hands away and pressed her palms firmly into the bleeding wound on his shoulder. “I need some help over here!” she yelled over her shoulder. “Anthony! Come help me press here-“ Anthony swung the butt of his rifle into her tempel. She stumbled back from the bleeding man on the ground and away form the assault rifle the other had trained on her. 

Anthony stood over her, the only thing he focused on were demonic black eyes. River grabbed for the muzzle of the rifle and jerked it to the side. He let go of the rifle and it tumbled out of both their grips and into a pile of fallen leaves. “Stop! Anthony, you don’t want to do this. NO one else has to die!” River screamed. He shook his head pulling a knife from his belt loop and jumped on top of her. She threw her forearm up over her neck and blocked his downward thrust. With her freehand she grabbed his wrist and pushed up. “Ellen! Ruf-us,” She yelled, “Jo!” Anthony swore under his breath and used his body weight to edge the knife closer.

A few blocks away Roger aka War walked happily towards his bright red car. The citizens of this little town had barely needed a breeze of his power to send them over the edge into paranoia and murder. Hopefully they’d kill the hunters and each other before sunset and by then he’d be on to bigger and better things. Maybe make a side trip to Syria for a few days. War was wrapped up in his twisted, blood covered thoughts when Sam and Dean appeared from behind a wall and pinned him against his own. “Oh! Boys, you are a pair of slippery little devils,” he chuckled. Dean twisted him so that his arms were trapped above his head and Sam pulled the Demon knife from his jacket. He chuckled again, “Nice knife big guy. You know you can’t kill War, right?”

“Oh we know, “ Dean grunted. Sam surged forward the knife held out in front of him. He swung the knife down and cleanly sliced of three of War’s fingers, including the one wearing the intricate gold ring. The ring fell and War and his cherry Mustang disappeared. No puff of smoke, no grand exit he was there one moment and completely gone the next. Dean was left struggling with nothing but air.

River’s hand slipped and the knife inched forward slicing into the soft flesh of her throat. Anthony smiled and leaned forward pressing down again, River blinked sweat out of her eyes and when she looked up Anthony saw her bright blue eyes shining with fear. He let go of the blade and sat back looking around at his fallen neighbors. River brought a shaking hand to the small nick in her throat and looked at her bloody finger tips. “Could you get the fuck off me?” she grumbled at Anthony, who still sat on her chest. He jumped off her and held out his hand, helping her to stand and brush the dirt and leaves out of her hair. 

The town’s survivors quickly came together and made amends for their deadly mistakes. Ellen, Jo and Rufus disappeared in the aftermath each had offered her a ride back to civilization but she refused. Not wanting to answer questions when the police and medical response arrived from the next town River walked back to her car where it still sat parked in front of the bed and breakfast and retrieved her duffle bag. After being cooped up in the church basement a little quiet time and a long walk seemed like a dream. It was twenty miles to the next town and all she wanted was to do was get there before dark. After a quick hike across the shallow, slow flowing river bed and up a steep embankment she was free of the town. Baby was parked off to the side of the destroyed bridge and she spared it a final glance before walking away. The sound of the engine reached her a good thirty seconds before the glinting black car sped past. AC/DC blaring out the open windows and she caught a glimpse of Dean’s eyes as he and his brother barreled past. She readjusted the duffle bag across her back and watched as the Impala disappeared over a hill.


	39. Chapter 39

Ch 39

 

“So…they ate each other …to death?” Rivers nose scrunched up under the thin paper medical mask that covered the lower half of her face. She prodded the male victims empty abdominal cavity with a scalpel, looking for anything unnatural that the medical examiner may have missed. So far nothing obvious was sticking out.

The older, portly coroner Dr. Corman nodded . “They still had chunks of un-chewed flesh in their esophagus when they died.” River peeled the bloody latex gloves off her hands and removed the mask. She was glad she had had the foresight to pull her long red hair into a professional looking ponytail, keeping it safe from the heaps of mangled flesh that used to be a man and woman laying on the cold metal exam tables. “So Agent Cash, what do you think?”

River smiled thinly at the older man, “Well, Dr. Corman, I think this is officially the grossest thing I’ve seen all week.”  
****  
“Honestly, Agent Marley, I have better things to do than pull these stiffs off ice because the Bureau forgot to sign a form,” Dr. Corman grumbled at Dean. He and his brother had arrived in St. James a few hours prior. Sam had found the case late the day before while skimming online for potential leads on any of the other Horsemens whereabouts. Another few weeks had passed since the incident in Colorado with War. Dean had called Cas as soon as they got cell service again and the Angel was delightfully unhelpful in providing any information on the ring War had been using to torment the people of River Pass. Dean was starting to get more annoyed at the trench coated Angel and his lack of leads. Everything was starting to feel pointless, hopeless even. There was no lore, no spell, nothing that was giving them even a glimmer of hope that they could stop the Apocalypse.

“Well, Dr. Corman. I apologize again. You know some of these agents aren’t worth the suits they come in….Quantico is getting kind of desperate these days,” Dean turned the charm on for the old doctor. The older man huffed loudly and went through the same report he had given the red headed FBI agent only a few hours prior.

“And if you see that lady agent, send her my way. I think she’s got the hots for me,” Dr. Corman laughed slamming the door shut on the morgue locker with the cannibalized remains of the victims. Dean said he would indeed and left the morgue. 

 

“I mean they just kept eating and eating,” Dean shivered. “Their stomachs were so full they were tearing.”

Sam grimaced, “That’s disgusting. So what are dealing with here? Witches? Some sort of curse.”

“I don’t know. Guess we should hit the books or something,” Dean grabbed a bottle of beer out of the mini fridge and cracked it open handing it to his brother. Sam gave him a small smile and accepted the drink. They sat in silence the rest of the evening, combing through local news reports for any other potential weirdness. The brothers were no nearer to finding an answer or even a clue when they finally gave up sometime after midnight. 

Dean’s phone rang early the next morning. “Agent Marley?” Dr. Corman’s gruff voice instantly made Dean regret those last two beers from the night before.

“Yeah, doc you got something for me?”

“Mmmhmm, two more DB’s. Suicides this time. Better hurry the lady Agent’s already here and we’re going out to lunch.” Dean and his brother changed back into their suits and drove to the St. James Medical Clinic. The brothers passed a tall, pale man in a black suit carrying a large briefcase on the way down to Dr. Corman’s exam room. Dean didn’t spare the man a second glance, figuring him to be a mortician. Sam on the other hand felt as if time slowed down as the man walked past him. He couldn’t identify the strange feeling that came over him as the man almost brushed his shoulder. 

“You ok?” Dean asked. Sam snapped his attention back to his brother. Dean’s green eyes showed the same faint worry and distrust they had since Sam had broken the last seal.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sam mumbled. The brothers stopped outside the black swinging doors and looked through the small glass window. Dr. Corman was bustling around the room talking animatedly to a shorter, red headed woman that stood over one of the dead bodies. Her hair was up in tight bun at the crown of her head, she wore a black form fitting suit jacket and an a-line skirt that came above her knees. Dean could see a faint bulge on her left thigh and figured it as a gun holster.   
“She looks like a naughty librarian from this angle. You think she’s wearing glasses?” Dean muttered to his brother.

Sam shook his head, “How are we going to play this if the real FBI is here?”

His older brother shook his head, “I don’t know we’ll wing it.” He pushed the door open so he and his brother could enter.

“Agent Cash, this is Agent Marley. He said your field commander called him in when you forgot to send in the right signature page with your report,” Dr. Corman nodded at the men as they walked in. The woman standing over the exam table pulled her gloves off and turned to face them.

The corner of River’s coral pink lips curled into a small smile. “Oh…yeah. Something with my internet service around here. Nice to see you Agent Marley…and you’re Agent Cliff, right? I think we met at the Christmas party last year.” She stuck out her hand. The brothers shared a quick look before shaking it. “You all done, doc?” she said turning back towards the doctor. 

He nodded, “You sure you don’t want to go out for lunch. Annie’s has a lunch time happy hour.” 

River shifted on her high heeled feet, god she hated heels but they made her look more the part. “I’d love to, Dr. Corman. But I told you the Bureau has a policy against fraternizing and drinking before 2 pm.”

“Your loss,” he smiled at her. 

“Do you mind if we examine the bodies?” Sam asked. 

Dr. Corman removed his white lab coat and hung it on a hook by the door. “They’re all yours Agents. I already boxed up the organs and sent the tox screens.” He opened the large steel refrigerator that housed the catalogued organs of the two newest victims. “Just refrigerate after opening, kids…and Agent Cash if you change your mind you know where to find me.” The doctor waddled out of the room, leaving the double doors swinging in his wake.

“What the hell are you doing here, ‘Agent Cash’?” Dean asked as soon as Dr. Corman was gone.

River sighed, “I’m working a case, Dean. I was here first. So why don’t you two skedaddle?” She sat heavily on a rolling stool, removed one of her heels and rubbed the arch of her foot.

“Yeah? You were here first? How ‘bout no?” Dean answered pulling the white sheet off the first body.

“You got any ideas about what the hell is going on here?” Sam asked.

River replaced her shoe and shrugged out of her jacket, “No not really. I was thinking Witches…but no hex bags, no charms, nada except four dead people.” She handed the brothers each a plastic apron and put one on over her own clothes. She and Sam unloaded the fridge of the organs as Dean inspected the bodies. “Dean…Dean!” River suddenly doubled over at the table grimacing. Dean dropped the scalpel he had been holding and rushed to her side.

“Hey, sweetheart what the hell is it?” he kneeled in front of her. 

“I think there’s something wrong with my stomach,” she groaned and shoved a plastic bin containing one of the victims dissected stomachs towards him.

He jumped back, “That’s not funny.”

River and Sam broke into loud laughter. “Oh come on, Winchester it’s hilarious.” Dean grumbled again under his breath and sat down next to his brother. River put the lid back on the plastic bin and smiled at Sam. He smiled back before turning his attention to the heart in front of him. “I guess thats an improvement,” she thought to herself. There was a dull ache that had settled in her chest since laying eyes on Sam and Dean. She just wanted to be near them, to laugh and joke and pretend like they were ok. Despite what she had told Dean, she was lonely and a big part of her did need them. She pulled the other heart towards her and squinted at the muscle for several seconds, turning it this way and that under the bright fluorescent light. Finally she got up and searched her discarded suit jacket until she found her glasses. She pushed the black rimmed glasses up her nose and sat back down. 

Dean looked up from his pile of intestines and once again thought of a naughty librarian. This thought would have led down a rabbit hole of pornographic thoughts just a few months prior. But now all Dean felt was that familiar feeling of emptiness and hollowness that had been plaguing him off and on since his escape from Hell. “Sammy-Sam, sorry,” River gave him a half smile, “What the hell do you think this is?” She pushed the heart towards him and pointed to a strange imprint near the left ventricle. Sam looked at the heart then checked the heart from the other victim, he turned it over so it mirrored the one River had been inspecting. 

“It looks like…,” Sam bent lower to the muscles.

“Enochian?” River answered and Sam nodded. Dean bent over the hearts and wrinkled his nose. 

“So you think it’s like the tagging on our ribs?” he asked.

Sam shrugged, “Dean, I don’t know.”

“What tagging on your ribs?” River asked. 

“I’m gonna call Cas, you can fill her in,” Dean stepped away from the table and pulled out his cellphone while Sam quietly told River about Castiel marking their rib cages with Enochian sigils and effectively masking them from Demon or Angels. Suddenly Gabriels necklace seemed very low tech. “Hey, Cas it’s Dean.”

“Why the hell does Cas have a cellphone?” River asked. Sam explained to her that the Enochian sigils Cas had bestowed upon them made them invisible to all Angels including him.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas answered with his deep gravelly voice. “Where are you?”

“31-C, basement level, St.James Medical center,” Dean said as he paced the small room. A light breeze ran through the room and River turned around.

Cas had appeared before Dean, still holding his cellphone to his ear, “I’m here Dean.”

“Yeah, Cas. I can see that.” Dean shook his head and tucked the phone back into his pocket. 

“I’m going to hang up now,” Cas said as he hung up his own phone and tucked into his trench coat. River swallowed thickly and shifted in her seat, the room that had been ice cold just a moment prior suddenly felt much warmer. The Angel turned and looked down at River, his jaw tightened and she stood up clumsily on her high heels peeling her latex gloves off and flinging them onto the table behind her.

“Hi, Cas.” She stepped towards the Angel and Dean, who looked at her like she’d suddenly grown two heads. River’s cheeks were a bright red and she nervously pulled the apron off and let if fall to the floor also.

“River,” he said shortly nodding his chin once.

She stepped closer and ran a hand down his blue tie, “Is this a new tie?” Cas raised an eyebrow and stared questioningly at Dean. “I think Dean has a new tie too. I mean I’ve never seen him wear this one before.” She lightly ran her fingers down Dean’s stripped tie as well.

“River?” Dean said quietly. She still had each of their ties between her fingers and was caressing them lightly. She seemed lost in thought her lower lip between her teeth and the corners of her lips twitching into a smile. 

She blinked several times and dropped their ties, “Hmm?”

“The hearts?”

“Oh yeah….” she tucked a stray strand of her red hair behind her ear, “Cas I think there are Enochian sigils on these hearts.” River pointed to the dead lumps of tissue on the table. Castiel picked up the first heart with his bare hand and inspected it closely. 

“You’re correct this is Enochian. I’m sure you’ll find similar marks on the other victims hearts,” Castiel told them.

“So, what are they? What do they mean?” Sam asked his lips downturned in disgust as Castiel set the heart back in the plastic tub.

“It’s a mark of union,” the Angel answered, “This man and woman were intended to mate.”

“What the hell marked them?” River handed Cas a towel to wipe his hands clean.

“Your people call them ‘Cupid’,” he said drying his hands on the towel.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Humans have created the myth of ‘Cupid’ from what is actually a lower class of Angel,” he continued, “Technically it’s a Cherub, third-class.”

“A cherub? Like the fat little kids in diapers?” River asked smiling. She had a sudden image of a baby Castiel, small black wings barely strong enough to keep him afloat and bright blue eyes shining with wonder.

The Angel turned to face her, “They’re not incontinent.” River suppressed a laugh when another image of Gabriel trying to wrangle a fledgling Cas to change his diaper popped into her head. She was still warm and her stomach suddenly growled loudly. The brothers looked at her and raised their eyebrows.

“Hungry?” Dean asked smiling.

“I am fucking starving all of a sudden,” she replied.

“Good. You should eat. The zombie apocalypse look doesn’t look good on you.”

“I don’t think you realize the severity of this issue,” Castiel cut in, his voice deep and serious, “This a rogue Cherub and we must stop him before he kills anyone else.”

Sam smiled, “Naturally.”

“Of course we do,” Dean said nodding.

Rivers stomach growled again, “Can we eat first?”

They drove around town for a while, stopping at several restaurants. Each time Cas would disappear from the car for a few seconds before returning. He would shake his head and Dean would drive away. “Cas, what the fuck dude? I need to eat.” River grumbled after they drove away from the third diner.

“I need to find a place that the Cherub would be drawn to.” A few minutes later Dean parked the Impala at a restaurant advertising candle lit dinners and specials for couples. “This will do,” Castiel told them after reappearing in the backseat next to River. 

“Finally, I’m about ready to eat Sam’s arm off,” River grumbled climbing out of the car. Her skirt rode high on her thighs as she climbed out of the car. Castiel stared for a moment, transfixed at the pale white skin. He suddenly had an unfamiliar urge to run his hands up her leg until they disappeared under her black skirt. He desperately wanted to know if she had cartoon characters on her underwear. “Cas, are you coming?” she barked at him as the three hunters walked towards the restaurant. He shook his head to dispel the strange sensation and got out of the car.

Thankfully they were seated quickly and the waitress took their orders. River shifted in her seat every couple of minutes, bouncing her legs nervously. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being overheated, her eyes drifting to Dean and Cas’s lips. Shit, even Sam looked especially nice tonight. “Why are we here Cas? Whats special about this place?” River finally asked. she needed something to distract herself.

“This is a nexus of human copulation,” the Angel answered. The waitress returned with the plates of food Dean, Sam and River had ordered. The waitress, a young blonde woman stared at Dean for a few long seconds before walking away. Dean didn’t spare her a second glance, his focus as on the bacon cheeseburger she had just delivered. Castiel also stared at the burger Dean was now squirting ketchup on. River had begun to devour her veggie burger, making obscene noises and eating like she hadn’t seen food in weeks. Dean sniffed his own burger then set it back down on the plate. He realized he wasn’t hungry. 

“You’re not gonna eat?” River asked, eyebrows raised. 

Dean shrugged, “Not hungry.”

“How ‘bout the chick that was just eye fucking you for thirty seconds?”

“Not my type,” Dean answered. River looked across the table at Sam who wore a similar confused look on his face.

Castiel hadn’t yet pried his blue eyes away from Dean’s discarded food. “So you’re not gonna eat that?” He reached across the table and picked up the burger. He took a tentative bite and licked his lips. River sat her own burger down and watched the Angel take another bite and smile. He stopped mid chew and dropped the burger on the table, “He’s here.” 

The hunters turned in their seats and stared around the crowded restaurant. “There-“ River pointed to a far corner, “I see wings…I think” she ducked her head around trying to follow the glinting shadow.

“Meet me in the back.” Cas growled and disappeared. River and the brothers stood up quickly and made their way to the back alley of the restaurant. 

“Cas where is he?” River whispered. They found the Angel in the alleyway, his brow furrowed and arm held out directly in front of him.

“I have him tethered, Zoda Khama Moharana…” he muttered. “Manifest yourself!” The lights in the alley flickered and Cas lowered his hand.

Dean cleared his throat, “So where he is?”

“I’m right here!” A giant, very naked man appeared behind Dean and scooped him up in bear hug. He jiggled Dean several inches off the floor like he was a toddler and not a 6’2’’ man.

Dean swung his head around, trying to get a look at his assailant. “Help me!” he grunted at River and Sam. Sam stood frozen in place, watching the huge man that had his brother trapped. River has trying with great difficulty to not double over in fit of laughter. The angel had wings so small and fluffy they looked more like useless accessories than functional appendages. Cas stared at the Cherub, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Help is here! Yes it is!” the man cried jovially before dropping Dean back on his feet. Dean sneered in surprise as the naked mans ass bounced past him. “Hi Brother!” the Cherub yelled happily when he set his eyes on Cas. “Come here you!” He took the Seraphim into a similar hug, squeezing him. Cas’s mouth disappeared into a thin line. He set Cas down and turned back towards River and Sam.

“Me next! Me next!” River yelled, hands outstretched towards the Cherub. The large man ran giddily towards her and picked her up, swinging her around like a small child. He placed her back on the ground and she slapped his naked ass. He let out a ‘tee-hee’ and stepped away from her towards Sam to complete the round of hugs.

Dean jumped out of the way, fists raised and yelled at Cas, “Is this a fight? Are we in a fight?”

Cas shook his head, “This is their handshake.”

“I don’t like it!” Dean said angrily. 

“No one does,” Cas replied.

“I do,” River smiled gleefully as Sams head bounced back and forth from the Cherub’s swinging. The Cherub finished his hugs and walked back towards his brother, his small soft penis swinging slightly with each step. Dean made another disgusted face and tried to find something interesting on the wall to focus on.

“What can I help you with, brother?”

Cas rolled his shoulders back and pulled himself to his full height, the Cherub still stood several inches over him, “Why are you doing this?” The Cherub’s face fell in confusion. “The people you are marking are slaughtering each other!”

“What? I don’t understand.” The Cherub looked between the stern faces of the hunters and then back to Cas.

Dean sighed loudly and watched the large man as he began to snivel, “Listen, birthday suit, cut the crap. We know you’ve been flitten’ around town, shooting poor saps with poison arrows.”

The Cherub’s lower lip jutted out and began to quiver, fat alligator tears dropped from his eyes, “You think I had something to do with…with hurting people?” He turned to look at River, his large eyes wide and shining. “I would never.” 

River held out her hands to the giant, naked man, “Oh come here big guy!” She wrapped her hands around him as he cried into her shoulder. “You two be nice!” she admonished at Dean and Castiel. 

The Cherubs shoulders shook with sobs, “I love love. I wouldn’t hurt anyone! Ever.”

“Ok, it’s ok.” She patted his back and stared daggers at the Angel and the green eyed hunter hunter. “Of course you do! But we need your help. We need to know whats happening to these people.”

The Cherub stood up, sniffed loudly and wiped tears off his face. “I was just on my appointed rounds. Following orders. I didn’t hurt anyone….read my mind!” he said suddenly turning towards Cas. “Brother, read my mind. Then you will know I’m telling the truth.” 

Cas stepped forward and stared up at the Cherubs wide hazel eyes. “He’s telling the truth.” Castiel reported after several silent moments of intense starring. 

The hunters shared a quick look. “You said you were following orders. Whose orders?” Dean asked, still concentrating very hard to not let his eyes fall below the Cherubs shoulders.

The Cherub laughed heartily, “Why Heaven, silly.”

“What the hell does Heaven care if Harry screws Sally or not?” River asked.

“Well certain destinies, certain blood lines…” the Cherub said. “Take you two for instance. You were destined to bear Dean Winchesters children but the state you were in….there’s no way you would have had sexual relations with anyone. We had to help you lower your guard so to speak, to allow Dean in and everything else is history so you humans are fond of saying…”

“Oh yeah Dean got in alright,” River sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

The Cherub noticed River’s frown, “Hey there pretty girl, we didn’t make you two fall in love. You did that on your own. All we did was soften things up, gave you a little push in the right direction. Not like their parents, oh no! The union of John and Mary Winchester was a very big deal” He turned towards the brothers. “Top priority for upper management. Nothing left to chance. They had to meet, fall in love. That was no easy feat! They couldn’t stand each other at first! When we were done with them-perfect couple!”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, “Are you telling me you played match-maker to our mom and dad?”

The Cherub nodded, “Well not me personally but yes. Oh…they were perfect together. Hardly an argument or disagreement. You two are much more volatile…”

“Our parents were perfect together? They’re dead you asshat!” Dean said angrily punching the Cherub in his jaw. Dean immediately regretted his rash decision, his fist felt like it slammed into a steel plank. The Cherubs face contorted again as if he were about to cry and then he disappeared. 

“Hey buddy, come back! The big meanie didn’t mean it!” River yelled after him. “Good job you big jerk. Whats wrong with you, anyways?”

Sam let out a long breath, it had taken River only a few hours to call Dean out on his attitude. He had sat and watched his brother become more withdrawn and angry over the last several weeks. “Maybe we should talk, Dean, about whats going on with you…. Or not.”

“Or not,” Dean grumbled leaving the alley. They drove back to the motel in silence. River, being her normal lucky self was of course staying at the same place just a few doors down. Her key card wouldn’t work when she tried to get into her room and after several minutes of cursing quietly at the door she stomped to the office.

“My cards not working,” she said sliding the plastic card across the counter at the man sitting at the front desk.

“That’s cause you should’ve paid for an extra day if you wanted to stay. Lucky we didn’t throw your shit out yet. It’ll be $85 for another night plus the late fee.” River sighed, rolling her eyes and pulled her wallet out of her bag. 

“I got $50 right now. I’ll give you the rest before 10pm if you let me in my room so I can get some stuff,” She held the cash out to the man. He nodded, took the money and fixed her key card. She found the telephone book in the nightstand, flipped quickly to the section she wanted and found the address to the closest strip club.

A quick conversation and her last $20 to the house manager and she was given the ok to get dressed, or undressed as it were. Her stomach growled again and she thought longingly about the candy bar filled vending machine at the motel. She finished piling her hair up in a sexy-ish ponytail and gave herself one last look in the mirror. She was still way thinner then she’d been in years and disliked the way her collarbones stuck out. For being early evening on a Wednesday the club was packed. It was standing room only around the dance area, men cat called and hollered at each of the women on stage. Money was being thrown from every angle as well as a few wedding rings, watches and anything else of value. Men were begging and pleading with some of the Dancers to come home with them, to marry them, or just to fuck them right there in front of everyone. River danced for less than an hour and walked off the stage with several thick wads of cash. “Is it always like this?” she asked one of the girls in the dressing area. She threw a lose Green Day shirt on over her bare chest and didn’t bother putting her jeans back on. The tiny black shorts would do until she could get back to her room and take a hot shower.

“I’ve never seen so many guys here. Father Sean, the priest over at St. Lucia’s gave me a hundred bucks to put my titties in his face.” The stripper bent over a thick line of cocaine and snorted loudly. Some of the other girls in the dressing room were drinking freely from pilfered bottles of alcohol, one seemed to be utterly entranced by her CandyCrush game and still another was booking a redeye flight to Vegas and mumbling to herself about ‘putting it all on black’.

River shook her head. “What the hell is going on in this town?” she thought to herself as she drove back to the motel. She paid the man at the desk and ignored the lascivious way his eyes slowly took in her pale legs. Once back in her room she paced restlessly. She had a huge stack of cash, so much money that she almost felt guilty. What if those stupid douche bags at the club had families? What were they thinking throwing this much money at a half naked stranger? Her stomach rumbled and she remembered the candy bars she had day dreamed about earlier. She peeled a few dollar bills off the top of her pile and headed for the vending machine.


	40. chapter 40

Ch 40

Waring: Dubious consent issues

Across town Sam was back at the morgue. Dr. Corman had called ‘Agent Marley’ when ‘Agent Cash’ hadn’t answered her phone. Dean wasn’t in the mood to deal with anymore body parts and sent Sam to the morgue in his place. The newest stiff was a man that had eaten enough twinkles to rip open his stomach but he hadn’t stopped there. When he couldn’t swallow any more he used a toilet brush to continue shoving food down his throat. He died from a combination of internal bleeding and asphyxiation. “What do you think made him do it?” Sam asked quietly. 

Dr. Corman pulled out a silver flask from his pocket and took a long drink. “I don’t know son. One of the most peculiar things I’ve seen…Seen a lot of peculiar things this week. You seen Agent Cash, around? I thinks she’s avoiding my calls. God what I wouldn’t give to bend her over…” he sighed and took another long pull from the flask.

Sam left the morgue and immediately called his brother. After assisting Dr. Corman with the autopsy it was apparent that Mr. Finch, the victim of Twinkie over indulgence, had not been marked by Cupid. “Yeah, well there’s a lot of weird shit in this town. We got 9 suicides and 18 O.D’s since Tuesday. Thats more than this town has had in the last five years combined,” Dean told him. “There’s a pattern that we are just not seeing. I’ll go get River, see you back in here in twenty and we’ll see if we can figure this out.” 

“Ok, yeah,” Sam disconnected the call and rubbed his temple. He had a pounding headache and felt on edge. A shakiness had settled over him, he wanted something to take the feeling of unease away. He turned back towards the morgue and saw the same tall, pale man he had seen the day before. He carried the same black suitcase and crossed the street towards Sam. The hunter darted down an alley, his hands trembling as he pulled the Demon blade out of his jacket. The man stepped into the alley and Sam pounced, pinning the man to the brick wall. “I know what you are,” Sam whispered, dragging the knife across the mans cheek. The demons eyes flashed black and he hissed as the blade cut into his flesh. There was a sudden roaring in his ears as the scent of the demons blood filled his nostrils. “God, I can smell you,” he murmured.

“Winchester,” the demon grunted. Another sharp icicle of pain darted into his temple and the demon took the opportunity to swing the heavy briefcase at his head. He knocked the bigger man to the side and turned to run back out of the alley. Sam swung the knife and caught the demons upper arm. The demon growled in pain dropping the suitcase and ran away from the hunter. Sam stood up and stared at the blood covered knife, just one little drop would make the pain behind his eyes go away. He ran his dry tongue over his bottom lip and shook his head violently. He wiped the blood off on a discarded rag on the alley floor and tucked the knife back into his jacket. 

“Son of a bitch. Give me my damn Reeses!” River growled and kicked the vending machine. The candy bar remained half stuck in the metal coil and refused to drop. She tried shaking the machine and still got no results.

“River, what the hell?” Dean mumbled behind her. She turned slowly to face him, blowing at a piece of errant hair that had fallen over her eye and put her hands on her hips. Dean’s warm, slightly spicy scent filled her nose and a dull throb revved to life between her legs.

She licked her lips slowly and met his green eyes. “This god damn machine ate my dollar. And I really need some chocolate and you smell amazing.” She added under her breath. 

“What?” Dean asked.

“What?” River repeated, turning back to the vending machine. She gave it another kick and the candy bar dropped a centimeter. 

“Hello Dean. River where are the rest of your pants?” Cas appeared besides the hunter, he was taking greedy bites of a cheeseburger and chewing loudly. 

“These are called shorts Castiel. I just got off work and I need a god damn candy bar.” She kicked the machine a third time before looking up at the blue eyed Angel in front of her.

“What do you mean work? Where are you working?” Dean asked. 

“I work at mind your own business and none of your concern, LLC.” River answered. “Hey Angel, how ‘bout you use some of that mojo of yours to get my candy.” 

Cas finished his cheeseburger and touched the vending machine. River’s Reese’s along with a dozen other chocolate bars dropped free. She squealed happily and gathered the candy bars into her arms. “Wanna come back to my room and fix my TV too? Unless you have a better idea how to use your grace.”

The Angel stepped towards her, “Yes I can think of a few.”

“Wait, what… No. Cas is not coming back to your room,” Dean said stepping between the two.“It’s December, Riv. Put some damn pants on and meet us in my room,” Dean grumbled. 

“Why so serious, Winchester? You can come to.” River smirked as she walked past. She gave Cas’s tie a firm yank as she walked past, “I’m in room 112, Angel.” 

Dean marched behind her and barked. “Get dressed! 5 minutes, River, my room.” She nodded opening a candy bar as let herself back into her room. 

“I’ll return shortly.” Castiel grumbled to Dean and disappeared. 

“What the shit?” Dean mumbled to himself, shaking his head. Sam pulled up in the Impala a few minutes later. He had the black briefcase in tow and was still pale and shaky from his near encounter with the demon blood. Sam caught him up on what had transpired outside of the morgue with the demon, leaving out the part about how close he had come to drinking the demons blood. “What the hell do demons have to do with this?”

Sam shrugged and turned towards the door to open it for River who had knocked quickly. He opened the door and she stood smiling up at him eating another candy bar. “You look like shit, Sam. You ok?” she walked in and headed for the table where Dean still stood in front of the mysterious briefcase.

Sam locked the door behind her. “Yeah, I’ll be ok.”

She finished the candy and tossed the wrapper in the waste basket. “So we gonna crack that case open or what?”

Dean shrugged, “What’s the worst that could happen?” The brother knelt in front of the briefcase, River poked her head between them. Instead of the normal numbers on the combination locks, the tumblers were demonic sigils. They hoped the currier had simply closed the case and not bothered to reset the combination. The brief case popped open and the room was flooded with a brilliant white-blue light, the light hovered for a moment before disappearing through the ceiling. “What the hell was that?” Dean asked, blinking the bright spots out of his eyes.

“That was a soul,” River answered remembering her encounter with the spirits of the dead women that had been held captive by the dead serial killer Michael Ainsworth.

“Yes it was,” Cas startled the three hunters and they turned to face the Angel. He clutched a greasy paper bag of take out food in his arm and held a half eaten burger in the other hand. “Everything is starting to make sense.”

“What exactly is making sense? And when the hell did you start eating?” River demanded.

Castiel fished another paper wrapped burger from his bag, “My hunger is actually a clue. This town isn’t suffering from some love-gone-bad effect. It’s suffering from hunger; starvation to be exact.” He took another bite of the burger, “Famine.”

River ran her hands through her hair, she needed more chocolate all of a sudden and some time alone with that detachable shower head in her bathroom, “Another fucking horseman is what your saying?” Castiel nodded.

“Great,” Dean replied shaking his head. “Thats fucking great.”

Sam shifted his large frame, trying to understand what Castiel meant. “I thought famine meant starvation as in food?”

“It does,” Castiel agreed, “But not just food. It’s starvation of love, sex, attention, drugs…”

River ran her tongue along her dry lips, “Ok so…Cupid comes along and shots people with his love arrow and then…”

“Famine made them crave love, made them rabid for it. So much so that they literally consumed one another or killed each other to remain together.” Castiel tossed his empty burger wrapper into the waste basket.

“But you’re a freaking Angel why are you eating?” River asked.

“It’s my vessel Jimmy,” Castiel sighed. “He craves red meat… along with other more physical activities.” His bright azure eyes met River’s and she bit her lower lip. Gods she hoped he meant the physical activities she needed; she needed to feel loved, safe, protected all the while having someones huge cock ruin her. The thought of having Castiel’s giant black wings wrapped around her naked body made it to the front of her mind. She brushed her fingertips along the necklace under her shirt and she was glad not for the first time that day she still had it on.

Dean stared between River and the Angel. They seemed to be having some silent conversation, he could see River taking deep breaths through her nose. “So let me get this straight- Famine rolls into town and everyone just goes crazy? O.D-ing on the streets, eating each other, death by Twinkies.”

Cas slowly shifted his eyes to Dean, “And then will come Famine. Riding a black steed. He will ride into the land of plenty. And great will be the Horseman's hunger for he is hunger.” River swallowed audibly, she had the sudden insane urge to drag Cas or Dean or both of them back to her room. Instead she balled her hands into fists and pressed her fingernails into her palms. “Famine is hungry and he must devour the souls of his victims. Hence the briefcase, they were retrieving the souls from the morgue. Lucifer has sent his demons to care for Famine. To help him regain his strength and be ready.”

“Ready for what?” Dean asked.

“To march across the land.” Castiel sat on the edge of the still made beds and began eating another burger. He was worse than a chain smoker at this point. “We should stop him before he gets too powerful.”

Sam snapped, “Yeah, Cas great plan. How exactly are we going to do that? Meanwhile this town is going to eat, drink and fuck itself to death.” He stood over the sink in the small bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. His skin was crawling and his hair felt hot. He was burning up from the inside.

“How did you defeat the last Horsemen you encountered?”

Dean grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair, “War got his mojo from a ring. Once we cut it off he tucked tail and ran and everyone that was affected went back to normal. Do you think Famine has a ring too?” 

Castiel took the last bite of his last burger and stared sadly into the empty take out bag. “Yes I know he does.”

“Ok, well lets go get him. River, Sam come on.” Sam still stood in the bathroom grasping the white porcelain sink with both of his huge hands. River was standing in front of Cas with no clear memory of having walked across the room, her fingers working on the buttons of her flannel shirt.

“My TV’s still broken. Do you want to come over and fuck , fix- FIX the TV?” River asked. Cas nodded and stood quickly.

“No! You two knock it the fuck off right now before I throw cold water on you,” Dean barked. River glared angrily at Dean and stepped away from the Angel. “Sammy, lets go.”

Sam shook his head, “I can’t Dean. I can’t go.”

“Why the hell not?” his older brother grumbled. 

“I think it got to me. I need it…”

“Need what?”

“You know,” Sam implored, running one shaking hand through his damp hair. 

Dean shook his head, “Demon blood? Really?” He turned away from his younger brother, “Get him the hell out of here. Fly him to Montana or something!” He yelled at Castiel.

“It wouldn’t do any good. He’s infected. The sickness would just follow him,” Castiel answered. He had closed the gap between himself and River and she had her hand wrapped around his tie again. 

“You two need a few minutes or can we please go gank this asshole?” Dean yelled. 

River blinked and let go of his tie. “No, I’m good. I can do this. We can do this.” She winked at Cas and shrugged into her jacket. 

“Wait! Before you go you need to lock me down good,” Sam pleaded.

Dean looked over his shoulder at River, “I got a pair of cuffs in my bag.” She dug through his duffle bag for a moment and found the requested handcuffs. They cuffed Sam to the base of the bathroom sink.

“You’re going to be ok, Sam. We’ll be back soon,” River smiled down at him, “You sure you don’t have to pee before we go?”

Sam gave her a twitchy smile, “Just hurry.” 

“We will,” Dean nodded shutting the door on his brother. Cas slid the huge armoire in front of the door. River stood to the side worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, her jacket on the floor in a discarded heap, fingers back at the buttons of her shirt. Her eyes darted to Dean who looked throughly over everyones bullshit.

She pinched the soft flesh of her arm until it bruised. “Stop that. You stop that right now. He’s an Angel for fucks sake” she thought angrily to herself. “…lets go to the morgue and see if Brandt comes back for another soul run.” She said aloud. 

“Who’s Brandt?” Castiel asked. 

Dean shook his head, “One of these days will get you caught up.”

They arrived at the medical clinic and followed the long hallways to Dr. Corman’s exam room. The older man was nowhere to be found. “Hey, excuse me, Dr. Jones?” River stopped another white coated doctor.

“Agent Cash, what can I help you with?”

“Have you seen Dr. Corman. We have a couple questions for him.”

The younger doctors face fell, “You haven’t heard?” River shook her head and the three followed Dr. Jones into the cold storage area. “He’d been sober for 25 years. Went home this afternoon and drank himself to death.” The hunters and the Angel stared down at the cold, mottled face of Dr. Franz Corman.

“Can we have a minute, Doc?” River asked Dr. Jones quietly. He nodded and left the three alone in the cold exam room. “Shit, I kind of liked him.” 

Dean nodded, “Yeah me too.”

Castiel laid his hands on the doctors hairy chest. “His souls is intact. It has not been harvested yet.”

“So we wait for one of Famine’s errand demons to pick up their payday and we follow ‘em to wherever the big boss is holed up,” Dean murmured. They retreated to the Impala and waited for one of Famines lackeys to show up. Castiel disappeared again leaving River and Dean in with only the sound of rain to break the silence. Fat rain drops plated the metal of the car and rolled down the windows, River shifted in the backseat and drummed her fingers restlessly against her thighs. Her stomach growled and Dean turned in his seat. “You ok?”

River moved on the seat again, squeezing her thighs together and rubbing her growling stomach. “No. I am not ok. I’m starving…..I can’t fucking think straight. I keep having these thoughts like I need….don’t give me that look.”

Dean blinked, “I’m not giving you a look. I don’t have a look.”

“Yes you do. Right there!” she pointed at him, “How are you so fucking unaffected by all this?” He shrugged his shoulders and looked out the window at the medical center. “You’re not drinking, you’re not eating, you’re not fucking…”

“I don’t know. If I want a drink I get one. If I want to eat I eat. If I want to screw I screw.” He answered. 

“So there’s nothing you want. At all?” He shook his head. “That is very disappointing.” River muttered turning her attention back to the rain. “I love the rain.” She said quietly.

“I know. You’re only happy when it rains.” River laughed at Dean quoting the song by Garbage.   
For a brief moment it was just them and the rain, in their once makeshift home. They were interrupted when Castiel reappeared in the front seat with another bag of cheeseburgers. 

“Seriously, dude. How many is that?” Dean sighed.

“I don’t know. I’ve lost count…” Castiel unwrapped a burger. “It’s in the low hundreds.”

“Cas thats disgusting,” River grumbled.

Cas just smiled at his sandwich, “These make me very happy.”

“You know what would make me happy…oln em tajh hanem,” River muttered. Castiel dropped his burger back into the bag and turned to look at her.

“Are you having a stroke?” Dean asked at her reflection in the rearview mirror. 

She stared at Castiel, “My Enochian is kind of rusty. Gabe was teaching me.…did you understand Castiel? Oln em tajh hanem.” She patted the leather seat next to her. The Angel swallowed.

“What did you say to him? Castiel, what did she say?” Dean demanded. 

“That would also make me very happy,” Castiel told her before climbing over the seat.

“Hey, god damn it, get your feet off the seat!” Dean barked at the retreating tail of the Angels trench coat. 

Castiel landed heavily next to River and she murmured something else to him in Enochian. He smiled at her before nervously tilting his head down. She wrapped her hands around his head, tangling her fingers in his dark auburn hair and pulled him towards her. Their mouths met clumsily and Cas pulled back embarrassed. River tugged gently on his hair pulling him back towards her. He tenderly touched his lips to hers again. A sharp though not unpleasant shock ran up her tongue when it tangled with Castiel’s and she moaned, her hands dropping to his trench coat and pulling herself towards him. Cas ran his hand gently down the side of her face and swirled his tongue again against hers. River whimpered against his lips, the throbbing between her legs growing unbearable. She needed him like she needed air. She swung her legs over his lap, straddling him and rocked against the firm bulge in his pants. It was the Angels turn to moan and he wrapped his hands around her ass encouraging her to give him that same new sensation. 

Dean cleared his throat loudly in the front seat, “Hate to interrupt but I think we got a winner.” 

His voice cut through the needy fog that had enveloped River’s brain and she sat back in Castiel’s lap. Her heart was pounding, she didn’t know how long she’d gone without taking a breath and her lips felt swollen and tingly. Castiel’s normally sharp blue eyes were heavy lidded and he had to blink several times to focus. Dean pointed across the street where a tall pale man had just exited St. James carrying a large suitcase. He walked quickly to a huge black SUV and disappeared inside. The car pulled away from the medical center a moment later. “Yes, he’s a demon. I see his true face.” Castiel said. Dean nodded and spun the Impala away from the curb. 

River climbed off Cas’s lap and scooted to the far side of the seat. “You should probably sit next to Dean.” Castiel nodded and appeared in the front seat as instructed.

“You could have just done that before,” Dean grumbled. Castiel remained silent as he retrieved his bag of cold cheeseburgers. They followed the SUV for several miles until it finally turned into the dark parking lot of “Gunderson’s All You Can Eat”. Thursday was apparently ‘BBQ’ night but there were no lights or signs of life coming from the restaurant. Dean killed the Impala’s lights and they silently coasted onto the street across from the buffet. 

Sam struggled uselessly against the handcuffs that bound him to the bathroom sink. His heart pounded in his ears and his mouth felt like it was full of sand. He just needed a taste, a drop of blood to take the edge off until his brother and the others finished off Famine. He renewed his struggles against the handcuffs the metal was biting into his wrists when he heard a door slam. “Guys?” he called, “Guys is that you?” Footsteps echoed across the thin carpet and he heard the armoire slide back across the floor. “I don’t think it worked! I’m still hungry….” The door swung open and two strangers, a man and a woman in similar black suits smiled down at him. Their eyes turned black and they both let out a little chuckle.

“Well look at you, someones gone and trussed you up for us,” the woman sneered. The male demon knelt down and grabbed the chain connecting the cuffs. He pulled that metal links apart like they were made of tissue paper and suddenly Sam was free. He shoved himself forward and knocked the man off his feet sending him tumbling into the tub behind him. The man became tangled up in the vinyl shower curtain and cursed loudly. Sam surged forward, using his massive size and hunters reflexes to over power the female demon. He punched the demon in her jaw and sent her crashing into the cheap coffee table in the middle of the room. The table collapsed under her into shards of glass and broken pieces of wood. Sam was on her in an instant, the pounding beat of her heart was pulling him forward. He grabbed a long shard of glass and sliced a small hole in the demons throat. His mouth covered the wound in an instant, not wasting a single drop of the crimson blood that pumped out. He slurred obscenely swallowing as quickly as possibly; it was better than the best orgasm he’d ever had, he felt himself grow hard and latched down hard on the oozing hole.

“Get him off of me!” She grunted at the man that had finally untangled himself from the shower curtain. He grabbed Sam by the shoulders and was thrown across the room. 

Sam pulled his blood covered face away from the demons throat and smiled evilly, “Wait your turn.”

“Alright, lets go over the plan again,” Dean said. His father had always made him repeat the ‘plan’ before being let out of the car and he had picked up the habit. Sam and River usually didn’t have to be asked anymore, they knew to repeat their parts as soon as Dean turned off the engine and turned his questioning green eyes towards them. River smiled at Cas’s annoyed sigh, he was picking pieces of cheese and meat stuck to the foil wrapper of his last burger.

“I take the knife, I go inside, I cut the ring of Famine and I come meet you back here,” Castiel repeated.

Dean nodded, “Sounds foolproof.” He turned to glance at the dark building. 

“See ya soon Angel,” River said quietly as he disappered. The rain stopped a moment later and River climbed out of the back seat and ran to the front passenger before the next deluge of rain started. “Can we talk?”

Dean gripped the steering wheel and worked his jaw back and forth, “Right now? After you just dry humped Cas in the backseat.”

Even in the relative dark of the car Dean could see the pink flare out across her cheeks. “I didn’t…I don’t know what that was about.”

“Oh I dunno…Famine making folks ravenous for things they want.”

“Fuck Dean, that’s not fair. Just because your like some Jedi Master against this super douche,” River sat back against the seat. “I want you too. God, that sounds shitty of me… I want you so bad my fucking teeth hurt. I just want you to stop being mad at me. Just stop hating me, please. I will do anything to make you not mad at me.” The fog had crept back around her brain, squeezing out any rational thought of anger or bitterness she still had for Dean. All she saw was him, his bright green eyes, the freckles that dotted the bridge of his nose, the full lips that had every sweet spot on her body memorized. She was across the bench seat, her body pressed into his. She nuzzled her nose into his warm neck and Dean stiffened in the seat next to her. She needed Dean, needed him inside her, to become a part of her. Her lips and tongue found the soft piece of flesh below his ear, Gods he tasted so good she needed more. Before she knew what she was doing she bit Dean, he yelped loudly and shoved her back across the seat.

“River, what the shit!” he screamed indignantly.

“No, wait. Dean, I need you!” she climbed back across the seat. 

He grabbed her by the shoulders and shocker her harshly, “Hey! Hey! You’re a god damn vegetarian remember!” River shook her head and took a deep breath. “Cas isn’t back. Something is wrong. Are you gonna help me or am I gonna have to lock you in the trunk?”

“I’m good. I’m good. Lets kill this mother fucker.” River slid back across the seat and let herself out of the car. They each gripped a sawed off shotgun loaded with salt filled rounds, extra shells clanked in their jacket pockets as they hustled across the street. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t really going to eat you,” River smiled at Dean as they reached the delivery entrance in the rear of the restaurant. He didn’t reply as he pulled the door open, River swept passed him shotgun raised and they silently crept further into the kitchen. The first body they found was the cook, who was still deep frying in the vat of bubbling oil. They shared a disgusted grimace and stepped around the extra crispy corpse. Bodies littered the rest of the restaurant, some were slumped over the front counter others were laying on the cold tile floor. A brown coated figure kneeled on the floor grunting like a wild animal while shoveling handfuls of something into his waiting mouth. “Cas! Castiel!” River hissed at the Angel. He turned slightly and shoveled another handful of raw hamburger into his mouth. He grunted and gestured at something behind Dean but didn’t stand to help them. Dean saw movement in his peripheral vision. He turned on his heel and fired a shot into the demons stomach. The demon dropped to the ground at his feet grunting in pain. A second demon jumped over the counter and tackled River to the floor, he grabbed a handful of her red hair and slammed her head into the floor. Her grip on the shotgun faltered as her head spun. She vaguely saw Dean fly past and then a low moan of pain before he was also tackled.

A moment later they were both being forced out of the kitchen and led towards a frail, ancient looking man sitting in an electric wheelchair. River’s head still spun from the blow to the tiled floor but something else was creeping into her brain the closer they got to the demon in the wheelchair. They passed Castiel who still sat on the floor stuffing his mouth with raw meat. “The other Mr. Winchester and Ms. McGregor so pleased to finally meet both of you,” he wheezed.

“What did you do to him?” Dean barked.

Famine let out a dry huffing cough, his version of a laugh. “You siced your dog on me; I threw him a steak.”

“That’s your big trick?” Dean sneered. He tried yanking his arms out of the grips of the demons that held him from behind. Famine tilted his questioningly. “You make people cuckoo for coco puffs.”

“Doesn’t take much really.” He pointed one skeletal finger at River, the demons holding her arms released her and she stumbled forward. “Barely a push for most.” Rivers fingers and legs trembled as she struggled with the buttons on her flannel shirt. She tore it off, then removed her undershirt in a matter of seconds. Her chest heaved as she moved towards Dean. “No, not him.” Famine pointed to Castiel. The Angel stood, wiped his mouth and hands on his jacket and turned to River. He left his dirty trench coat on the floor and grabbed River. She pulled on his white dress shirt sending buttons flying. A few of the demons let out a chuckle as she pushed the Angel towards the nearest wall. His back hit the wall and she stood on her toes, pulled his face down and their lips crashed together. Dean was legitimately afraid they were going to start eating each other and he renewed his struggles against the demons. Famine wheezed in laughter as Cas grabbed a handful of Rivers hair and pulled her head to the side, he moved his lips to her neck and left a trail of love bites and sucked bruises into the tender flesh. Her hands slid down Cas’s naked chest to the growing tent in his pants. She palmed him through his dress pants and the Angel let out a deep groan. River dropped to her knees in front of the Seraphim, unzipped his pants and pulled out his throbbing cock.

“Ok! Enough! Make them stop!” Dean yelled.

Famine’s cracked lips stretched across his yellow, crooked teeth in a rictus smile. “America land of all you can eat buffets and stretch pants. Yet you’re all starving. Hunger doesn’t just come from the body it eats away at the soul.” Castiel sighed deeply and sagged against the wall as River licked a long wet strip up his dick. His blue eyes were huge and wide as she stared up at him. Any thoughts of sin or blasphemy were blocked by Famines grip on both of them. She swirled her tongue over his red, swollen head and moaned wantonly at the taste of his precum before swallowing his cock. Cas’s eyes rolled back and he tangled his hands in her long hair as she started giving him a blowjob a porn star would be proud of. 

Dean closed his eyes to block the sight of Rivers head bobbing back and forth as she brought Castiel closer to the edge. But he couldn’t block the sound of her gagging and moaning as Cas started to thrust his hips letting instinct and need drive him on. He couldn’t unhear the snickers and whistles of the five demons that stood ogling at the pair. “Your powers don’t work on everyone, chump. I’m doin’ just fine,” he finally said trying more than anything to get the demons to look at him.

Famine nodded, “Yes I’ve noticed that. Don’t you wonder why that is? Why I can corrupt an Angel and yet I can’t break you?” He pushed a control knob on his wheelchair and it zoomed forward.

Dean tried taking a step back but the demons behind him renewed their attention on him and their master. “I like to think it’s because of the strength of my character.”

“You can lie to your brother, your friends over there. You can even lie to yourself. But you can’t lie to me Mr. Winchester.” Famine sat forward and reached one claw like hand towards him. He pressed his hand into Dean’s abdomen and a hollow coldness seeped through his shirt and into his bones. Dean struggled again against the demons but they pushed him firmly into Famine’s outstretched hand. “Thats a whole lot of nothing you got in there. Blackness, and emptiness you can’t fill with food or drink. Not even with sex.”

“You don’t know what your talking about,” Dean seethed as Famine finally removed his hand. 

“I can see inside you Dean! See how broken you are! You can’t win and you know it!” Famine yelled. “But you just keep going through the motions because you have nothing else. You aren’t hungry because inside you’re already dead!”

“Let him go!” Sam stormed into the restaurant behind Famine. Three demons broke from the group and ran towards him.

Famine spun his wheelchair around and yelled, “NO! None of you touch him!” The demons halted in their pursuit and waited for further instructions. The silence was broken only by the sounds Castiel and River were making both still completely oblivious and under Famines control. “You won’t harm a hair on this sweet boys head. Sam did you enjoy the snacks I sent you?” Famine asked kindly.

Sam stepped forward into the dim reflection of moonlight that seeped in through the windows. Dean saw the dried blood that still caked Sam’s face and the front of his shirt. Dean shook his head whispering, “Sammy no.”

“You sent them?” Sam growled. 

“Yes my son. And I have more for you. You can drink as much as you like. You can never have too much, it can never kill you. You are the exception to the rule, Sam. You are perfect. Just the way Satan made you.” Famine waived at the two closest demons, “Take them Sam. Slit their throats and drink!”

“Sam don’t do it!” Dean screamed. 

Sam licked his lips, still tasting the blood from his previous meal and shook his head. He held one of his huge hands in front of him and slowly curled it into a fist. The five lesser demons started convulsing and spewing black smoke from their mouths. The smoke swirled impotently on the floor along their feet and between the wheels of Famines wheelchair as the bodies of the recently possessed fell dead. “No. I won’t,” he said quietly.

Famine shook his head, his thin whips of white hair falling across the papery skin of his forehead. “Fine. If you don’t want them I do.” He opened his mouth into a gaping maw and sucked at the air around him. The black smoke rose up and flooded into his waiting mouth. Dean retrieved the knife from the jacket of one of the fallen demons and stood in shock. Famine signed contentedly, his face instantly appearing a fraction fuller, a lite pink tinge highlighting his gaunt cheeks.Sam raised his hand again pointing it at Famine. “Your powers don’t work on me, child. I’m a Horseman.”

Sam smiled again, his blood caked teeth grotesquely shining in the moon light. “You’re right. They don’t. But it works on them.” He closed his hazel eyes in concentration and Famine felt an unfamiliar sensation in his gut. A ripping, tearing, burning pain. The lumpy flesh of his abdomen started to bubble and melt as the demons he had just ingested were destroyed by Sam. The Horseman let out a gasping, hallow scream as the hunter executed the final remnants of the lesser demons and in turn ended him. The frail withered body slumped back in to the wheelchair. 

Castiel came in Rivers mouth with a loud groan and she swallowed as much of the thick salty cum she could while he continued to thrust into her swollen mouth. An instant later Famines hold on both of them broke. Castiel let go of his tangled hold on her hair and she fell backwards, raising one shaking hand to wipe the drool and cum off her lips. Castiel tucked his softening penis back in his pants and quickly pulled up the zipper. “River,” he murmured quietly down at her. She sat on the floor shivering uncontrollably as she took in the bodies of the dead demons and the Horseman, her blue eyes roaming over Sam’s blood covered face and finally meeting Dean’s dark green eyes. A blossom of shame and anger exploded from her stomach as the realization of what just transpired sank in. She scrambled up and away from Castiel’s outstretched hand, scooped up her discarded shirt and ran out the front door before the tears started. “River!” Castiel yelled running after her. 

“Gabriel! Please, please get me the fuck out of here,” she screamed into the dark parking lot.”Please, fuck. Gabe! Get me out of here!” 

“River, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I had no power against Famine,” Castiel’s deep gravelly voice called out to her. 

She turned around to slowly meet his eyes, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Famine fucked both of us…They’re just going to keep using us against each other.” She wiped angry tears off her face and looked over the Angels shoulder as Dean exited the restaurant followed by Sam. The taller hunter still hadn’t bothered to wash the demon blood off his face. “I can’t do this anymore,” she murmured.

“Sweetheart, don’t leave. We need to talk,” Dean told her. She shook her head. “At least come with us back to Bobby’s and we’ll figure something out.”

“No. No, I’m sorry but I need to go. I love you but I can’t do this anymore." She said it to all three of them and hoped Dean and Castiel understood. She walked away into the darkness, headed back towards town. The quiet was comforting, the smell of rain still clung to the air and was refreshing after the stench of the restaurant turned abattoir. Shame still plagued her like a weight on her shoulders as did the growing sensation of selfishness. She still loved Dean, stupidly, even with the growing chasm of destiny and his own emotional shortcomings that were determined to push him further away. But she realized not for the first time she also harbored affection for Castiel. The Angel that had faced Hell to rescue Dean, fought against everything he had ever known and fell from Heaven to try and help them prevent the Apocalypse. The Angel she’d just sucked off in front of a half dozen demons and her ex-boyfriend. Suki had never warned her about any of this shit when she signed on to become a hunter. “Fuck me,” she muttered angrily to herself.

“Sounds like you need a vacation Lemon drop.” Gabriel appeared before her. His whiskey colored eyes dipped in sorrow. River dropped her face in her hands and let the sobs finally break free. The Archangel hugged her tightly, his giant sunset orange wings surrounding them. “Lets go somewhere fun.” She nodded against his chest and they disappeared.

“Please! Guys! Let me out!” Sam pleaded from inside Bobby’s reinforced panic room. Dean leaned against a wooden pillar in the basement nursing a bottle of Johnny Walker Black. Castiel stood silently next to him as Sam let out a frustrated cry.

“That’s not really him Dean,” the Angel told him. Dean nodded and took another drink. “He just needs to get it out of his system.” Sam had been screaming non-stop for two days in addition to the day and half it had taken to get him back to Bobby’s. Castiel put his hands in the pockets of his trench coat, shuffled his feet and cleared his throat nervously. “Have you heard from River?” The hunter shook his head. “I am deeply, deeply sorry for what happened between she and I.”

Dean let out a long breath, “I need some fresh air.” He stumbled up the steps, not due to drunkenness but because the tears that blurred his vision. Famines words echoed in his head, he was dead inside, empty, hallow and alone. He needed time alone, away from his brother, away from Castiel. He just wanted to do his job for a while, hunt things, save people. He sent a silent prayer to anyone, any higher power that might be listening to help him before he slid into the drivers seat of Baby and drove away from Bobby’s.

December in Miami, Florida was usually mild. The water still warm enough to swim in, tourists still flocking to the sandy beaches and amusement parks. Gabriel had flown them to a snazzy little bar called ‘The Orange Blossom’; they specialized in wet t-shirt contests and overpriced daiquiris. One such mixed drink sat untouched in front of the red headed hunter. She stared at the ridiculous, tiny paper umbrella that was plopped in the middle of the sugary, frozen concoction. Gabriel was currently on stage ‘judging’ the contestants of ‘Ms. Saturday’ night. Jimmy Buffet blared in the background, dozens of drunk slobs and slobettes littered the bar. The stool she sat on was sticky as was the bar top, the floor and everything else in the mosquito ridden dump. She loved Gabriel and he had come to her rescue again but she couldn’t live like this. Pretending that the world wasn’t going to shit while she got drunk on empty calories. So she sucked down the strawberry flavored daiquiri, grabbed the brown leather letterman bag Gabe have given her with the instructions “This is my bug out bag, guard it with your life” and left the bar. Gabe didn’t notice she was gone until after he awarded the beer can crown to the big bossomed winner of the wet t-shirt contest.


	41. chapter 41

Ch 41

“Another body found”, “Single mother with two small children”, “Adult dancer”. River skimmed the headlines. “Adult dancer? She was a fucking stripper and thats why the police have done fuck all nothing…” she muttered. The bastards M.O was targeting strippers aka ‘adult dancers’. It had raped and murdered at least five women in the last two weeks in or around Exeter, New Hampshire. Nothing tied the murders together except for their profession. There was no traceable DNA or fingerprints but in two of the police reports she had managed to hack there had been some unknown biological substance found near the bodies. From there ‘Agent Cash’ had been able to persuade the medical examiner to let her unofficially assist in the autopsy of the latest victim. She had found more of the stringy, ‘unknown’ substance under the woman’s manicured finger nails. River instantly recognized it as shifter skin. The five women had been employed at three different clubs in the area. She’d already gone through the employee list and hadn’t found any potential suspects. The next step was checking into any regular customers or weirdo strangers. “Or fucking anyone because its a god damn shape shifter and who knows what face its wearing today.” She thought angrily.

She slumped back against the stiff headboard of her lumpy motel bed. A pile of newspaper clippings and her journal lay next to her; as was Gabe’s ‘bug out bag’. The bag ended up containing nothing more than a 2-pound bag of peanut M &M’s, a can of Tab and a box of Magnum condoms. “In your dreams Gabriel,” she had chuckled to herself when she found the rubbers. She glanced at the date of the newspaper on the top of the pile it was January 23rd. Dean’s 30th birthday was tomorrow. River had spent her own 28th birthday a few weeks prior holed up in a shitty motel room nursing a concussion while eating a pint of ‘Chunky Monkey’ and trying to enjoy a ‘Highlander’ marathon while the city around her erupted in New Years fireworks. 

She thankfully hadn’t heard from the Winchesters or had any run-ins with Angels, trench coated or otherwise and had been hunting on her own for weeks. It was only mid-afternoon but she was exhausted. She been working nights at the different clubs trying to track the shifter, she’d been close last night. She’d seen shining yellow eyes in her peripheral vision as she was walking the floor; by the time she made it to the spot near the bar the perp was gone. She had a vague face and body shape to go off and hopefully he’d come back tonight wearing the same meat suit. She got up from the lumpy bed, double checked the locks and warding on the motel door, tucked her gun under her pillow and attempted to get some shut eye. 

Her alarm woke her a few hours later and she gathered her bag, her gun full of silver bullets and a silver dagger that fit in her boot. It took less than five minutes to drive to the club, she noticed a few regulars, waived at the bouncer Freddie and headed for the dressing room which was little more than a mop closet with a table, a few chairs and a full length mirror. River changed quickly, double checked that her knife wouldn’t fall out of her boot if she stood on her hands and sat down to fix her makeup. She finished her last layer of mascara when she heard her phone ring from the depths of her bag. “Answer it or turn that shit off. I fucking hate that song,” a tired looking blonde woman in her mid-thirties slumped into the seat next to River.

“Yeah, shit, alright Mindy. Relax,” River muttered finally answering the call. “Hello.”

“Hey, Riv,” Dean’s deep voice replied quietly on the other end. She closed her eyes and let out a slow breath. “You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here D. What do you want?”

“Just wanted to check in…see how you were doing.”

“I’m fine. I’m working. I’m busy,” she turned away from the woman next to her who was checking the text messages on her own phone.

“Workin’ a case?” Dean asked. He sounded tired.

“Yeah, a shifter.”

“Angel! You got five minutes move your ass!” a voice thundered into the dressing room, River moved her hand over the cellphones receiver trying to block the noise.

“Alright, Lou, you fuck! I got it!” she yelled back.

“Who was that? Where are you?” Dean prodded.

River sighed, “I told you I’m working a case. I gotta go.”

“Wait! Wait, can we just talk?” he asked.

She chewed her bottom lip, “We are talking.“

“I want to see you. I’ll come help you with your case.”

River let out a quick laugh, “No. No. No. That is not happening, Winchester sorry. Call me if you guys figure out how to stop Satan from murdering the planet but until then no.” Mindy looked up from her phone at the mention of Satan, pointedly stood up from her chair and moved across the room away from River.

“If this is about you and Cas. It’s cool. I get it,” he told her. 

“This isn’t about me and Cas. There is no me and Cas, Jesus. This is about us. All of us and our fucked up lives, Dean.” River hissed. She needed to get out on the stage and look for the shifter. “This time it was me giving Cas head in front of a room full of demons. I could barely swallow for two days; he could have fucked a hole through my throat…Last time it was Lilith and her pets ripping us apart. What’s it gonna be next time? I get hexed to fuck Sam? Zachariah decides to rearrange our insides so they’re on the outside? We aren’t helping each other, we aren’t good for each other. So no and goodbye, sugar lips.” She disconnected the call and threw the phone back into her duffle bag before leaving the musty room.

Her first song started and she walked slowly up the narrow stairs to the stage. The lights flickered above her which wasn’t uncommon in this dump but she shot them a wary glance none the less. She focused on the two tasks in front of her, the first to inspect the crowd for signs of the shape shifter and the second to move her ass and earn a little bit of cash. The music was half way through, her shirt tossed to the side, the silver-white star shaped pasties she had stuck to her nipples glittered in the dim, smoke filled light. A strobe light flickered again and for an instant she saw bright inhuman eyeshine coming from a figure near the bar. River sauntered to the end of the stage hoping to get a clear look at the shifters face but was nearly knocked off her feet when the earth beneath them shuttered violently. Every light in the house suddenly turned on and burned bright enough to nearly blind the patrons in the club. Just as quickly the lightbulbs started to hiss and pop, showering River and everyone else in sparks and broken glass then plunged the dank club into complete darkness. The club was quickly evacuated with promises to reopen early the following night granted they could get the glass cleaned up. 

River dressed quickly, got her tips from the bouncer and walked back to her car. The street was pitch black, every street lamp had also burst leaving the road littered in glass. She stared down the surrounding streets and saw only inky blackness. The same pattern was repeated every street she passed on the way back to her motel and at the motel also. She had enough light from the screen on her phone to get in her room, lock the door behind her and find her laptop. Thankfully it hadn’t exploded during the power surge and after a quick check online it looked like all of New Hampshire as well as the three surrounding states had lost power. “What the shit?” she muttered to herself.

Dean sat alone in his motel room, his clothes still splattered with the blood of the vampire he had beheaded behind the dumpy bar downtown. The clock officially ticked past midnight and he was suddenly a whole year older. He never thought he’d see 30 and now he was positive he’d never see 31. His fingers had dialed River’s phone number before his brain had even thought about what to say if she answered. When she did answer he fumbled, he’d wanted to talk to her and make amends, again, for being an asshole and came off sounding desperate. She held her ground and hadn’t given him her location but he’d kept her on the line long enough to get a ping on her cellphone. He sat in bed, staring at the ceiling trying to decide if he was crossing the line between concerned and stalker when Castiel appeared at the foot of his bed. “Son of b-I’ve told you not to do that. One of these days I’m gonna shoot you,” Dean said sitting up in the bed. 

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel replied. 

“How’d you find me, Cas. I thought I was flying below Angel radar,” the hunter said. He peeled off his dirty shirt, found a less dirty one in his duffle bag and quickly changed. Cas had settled the internal argument he’d been having, he was going to head for New Hampshire to try and find River.

“You are. I called Bobby and he told me where you were.” Dean shook his head, annoyed at Bobby’s loose lips. He had called to check in earlier with the older hunter. Sam had detoxed from the Demon blood and had left Sioux Falls telling Bobby he needed to get away from hunting and make sure his head was clear. He was a danger to himself and others if he couldn’t be trusted not to fall off the wagon again when it came to demon blood. Castiel had gone back out into the wild to search for God and had been off the grid for a few weeks as well. “I need your assistance in locating someone.”

Dean ran his fingers through his hair, scratching his dry scalp, “I’m really not in the mood.”

The Angel shook his head, “I have a lead on the Archangel Raphael.”

“Like the Ninja Turtle? ” Dean asked, smiling at his own joke. 

Cas tilted his head, “He is not a turtle. He would be possessing a human vessel just as I am. He is also the Archangel that killed me.”

“So this is about revenge? You’re getting pretty dark there, Cas.” 

“This is about information Dean. We are going to interrogate Raphael,” the Angel answered. 

“How are going to do that exactly?” Dean stuffed the rest of his belongings into his duffle bag and stared at the Angel.

“We are going to trap him. Much like you and your brother trapped Gabriel.”

“What with Holy Oil? I’m fresh out. Didn’t close the lid all the way on the jar and it leaked all over my trunk.” Dean answered. 

“I will procure more when the time comes.” Castiel’s jaw tightened and he stared at Dean.

The hunter smiled, “You’re serious about this. You’re Thelma, I’ll be Louise and we just sail off this cliff together?”

“I have no idea what you are referencing but if you are agreeing to help me…”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, “Why should I? How will this help us?”

“Dean, If Raphael can give us God’s location then we have a chance at stopping Lucifer. I need your help. Because you are the only one that will help me. I am asking for your help because you are Michael’s vessel and no Angel would dare harm you.”

Dean touched his index finger to his nose in a ‘Got it’ motion. “I’m your bullet shield.”

“Please.” Castiel said again quietly.

“Ok. Ok, where is he?”

“There were signs tonight that he touched down in Maine,” Cas answered. 

“Fine. Let’s go,” Dean shouldered his duffle bag and looked back at Castiel. Cas nodded and raised his fingers to Dean’s forehead. Dean knocked his hand away, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m going to fly us there,” Cas told him.

Dean shook his head, “Nope. I’m not doing that again . The last time you zapped me somewhere I didn’t poop for a week. We’re drivin’ and we’re making a stop along the way.”

They arrived in New Hampshire early the next evening. “Did River ask you to help her?” Castiel asked. 

Dean shot him a look across the bench seat and turned the volume down on the radio. “Not in so many words. No.” He glanced at his phone to double check the coordinates before he pulled into the crowded parking lot of ‘The Honey Pot’. “She’s hunting a shapeshifter. She has history with their kind. I just want to make sure she’s ok.”

“We need to find Raphael.” Castiel said.

“Yeah, well I need some twenty five cent chicken wings. Come on,” Dean said pointing at one of the flashing signs on the dirty windows. They found an empty spot at the bar, Dean ordered a couple of beers and 3 dozen chicken wings. He tapped his fingers on the bar impatiently letting his green eyes roam over the shadowed faces in the crowd. He focused on the spurts of conversation he could hear over the annoying techno music. It wasn’t the skeeviest strip club he’d ever been in but it was definitely up there. Just the place a piece of shit shifter could easily pick up victims. “This place is a dump….” he mumbled.

The bar tender handed Dean a plastic number with his food order and two bottles of beer. Dean in turn handed one of the bottles to Cas who stared at it quizzically. His blue eyes narrowed in concentration as smelled the amber liquid, “I’m not going to drink this Dean.”

“Yes you are.” He glared over the top of his own beer at the Angel. “Do you see any short, pissed off gingers anywhere?” The Angel shook his head, grimacing at the tase of the cheap beer. Dean sighed next to him and pulled out his cellphone with the intent to call River again. Maybe she’d already ganked the shifter and moved on, then at least he could enjoy his chicken wings and maybe a birthday lap dance before he and Cas got back on the road. 

The douchey music ended and the MC broke over the din of the crowd, “Alright, alright, alright. Thank you Starla Maxx. Starla is available for private dances and parties. Prices vary.” A high pitched whine screeched over the intercom as the MC fiddled with the sound system. Dean turned back towards the bar to waive the bar tender down for another round. “Got something a little harder for y’all now. I know how you like to get hard,” The MC laughed stupidly at his own joke and Dean took a long pull of his second beer. He was pretty certain his chicken wings weren’t coming. “Let’s give a Honey Pot whistle to Angelfuck!” Dean almost pulled a muscle in his neck spinning towards the stage. Whistles erupted here and there from the dark corners of the club. 

The slow intro riff of Danzig’s ‘She Rides’ started and River walked confidently onto the stage heading straight for the silver metal pole in the center. She done her hair in tight, bouncy curls that swished when she walked. Dean’s Adams apple bobbed several times as he tried to swallow muttering “Son of a bitch” in a sort of chant under his breath. Castiel’s eyes narrowed to thin blue slits. River jumped up, grabbed the pole and worked her magic. Her eyes constantly roaming over the crowd, the bar area hidden in darkness from her angle as she slid down the pole. She turned herself up and around hooking her legs around the pole and came down on her hands first, slowly swinging her legs over head before standing back up. Hips swinging slowly in tune with the music, tiny black boy shorts with shiny cherries flashed the crowd. One hand grasped the gold zipper on her bra top and pulled it down. She ran her tongue around her dark red lips suggestively at a bald man standing near the stage as the top fell to the floor. Tonight she wore sparkly red cherries on her nipples to match the ones on her shorts. Dean spilled his beer, his mouth had ceased to function and he was making sputtering noises. Castiel gripped his bottle so tight it finally shattered in his hands. Dean turned to look at his friend, still making the same sputtering noises. Cas disappeared suddenly, leaving nothing but a puddle of beer and broken glass. A second later the trench coated Angel appeared on stage in front of River. 

“Castiel? What the fuck?” she yelled. Cas grabbed her hand and in another instant they were gone. The crowd hissed and booed as the bouncer ran to the now empty stage. Dean set his beer bottle on the bar and hustled out of the club. He heard faint, angry yells coming from the alley and headed that way. “What the fucking fuck, Cas?” River stood in front of the taller man, one hand pushing into the Angels chest. “How dare you! How fucking dare you!”

“Why are you taking your clothes off in front of those strange men?” The Angel asked her.

“Don’t flap your wings at me!” She yelled, “I am working Castiel.”

“Yeah, looks like you’re workin’ real hard,” Dean drawled. She spun on her heels to face him still three-quarters naked. He tried not to smirk at her.

“You tracked my phone didn’t you? Asshole!” she crossed her arms over her chest.

“What the hell are you doing stripping again?” Dean demanded. 

“I need money, Dean, you know for food, ammo and occasionally I like to sleep in a bed.” 

“So you’re stripping? You’re a fucking nurse go back to doing that for a while.”

“How? My fingerprints are in every law enforcement database identifying me as a dead serial killer!”

“I taught you how to play pool. We made plenty of money doin’ that.” Dean yelled back.

“Pool? You want me to hustle pool for cash? That’s a lot fucking easier to do when I’m with two huge guys that can handle themselves in a bar fight in case things go sideways.” She took a deep breath, the bright red cherries stuck to her nipples glinting under the one dim flood lamp in the alley. “You know what? I don’t have to explain myself to either of you. I am working a case. Like I told you yesterday. A murdering, raping mother fucking shapeshifter that is in there right fucking now. Was in there. You two assholes probably tipped him off!”

“Who is it?” Castiel asked quietly.

River worked her jaw back and forth angrily, “The Charlie Brown looking jerk off by the stage.” Castiel’s face went blank as he tried to decipher the message. “The short, bald fuck in the yellow shirt!” she yelled. The Angel nodded and disappeared.

Dean sighed loudly. River crossed her arms back over her bare chest and shivered in the cold air. “You said weren’t very good at pole dancing.”

She shrugged, “Yeah well I lied. I’m pretty fucking good when I need to be.”

“You’re a pretty good liar when you need to be too.” It was her turn to sigh and roll her eyes. “Sunflowers?” he asked quietly after a moment, eyebrows raised. Rivers fingers trailed over her left hip where she had two small, bright sunflowers tattooed.

“I got it for Zeppelin and Bowie. Closure, I guess,” she sighed. “Levi got me this book on grief and self-help….bunch of hippie bullshit.” 

Castiel reappeared with Charlie in tow. “Hey, hey. I don’t know what this is about-“ the short round man stuttered.

“The fuck you don’t,” River hissed pulling her silver knife out of her boot. She stalked towards the man, he tried to run but Castiel held him fast. She held the tip to the mans cheek and the flesh started to bubble and burn, the shifter hissed in pain and jerked his face away from the silver blade.

“Fucking hunter bitch!” he seethed. Castiel’s grip on his shoulder tightened and the shifter cried out in pain. Dean scanned behind them quickly making sure no one heard the shifters yell.

“How many women have you raped and murdered?” River asked him quietly.

“Fuck you.”

“River.” Dean urged checking the alley again.

She dragged the silver blade across his other cheek, “How many?”

“I lost count after thirty,” he smiled sickly at her.

River shook her head, her coppery red curls bouncing. “Why?”

“Why not? You humans strut around pretending your at the top of the food chain; it’s fun to remind you how easily broken you are.” He blinked his second set of eye lids, letting his yellow irises and oblong reptilian- like pupils show. She plunged the silver dagger into the shapeshifters heart. It grunted once and sagged to the ground at their feet when Castiel released his grip. 

River wiped the bloody knife off on the shapeshifters shirt before tucking it back in her boot. She retrieved a small key ring from the other boot and tossed it at Dean. “That’s my car, if you two want to stash him in the trunk I’ll go get dressed,” she pointed to the small, dark blue Honda parked at the opposite end of the alley. “Be back in 15.” She turned back towards the club and disappeared around the corner. Dean’s shoulders twitched in annoyance and Castiel’s eyes were once again narrow slits. Dean opened the trunk to Rivers car and found she’d already prepared to dispose of the shifters body. The trunk lined in plastic sheeting and there was a small shovel, bottles of lighter fluid, and salt tucked into a duffle bag in the back. Cas deposited the dead shifter into the trunk like it was nothing more than a small sack of flour and not a 200 pound monster. 

“I don’t believe she should begetting naked in front of those men. Many of them are married,” Castiel finally said as Dean slammed the trunk closed. Dean laughed and shook his head.

“Those are the ones that give me the biggest tips,” River replied walking up to them. She’d changed into a Star Wars T-shirt, hoodies, jeans and had a black beanie pulled down over her hair. She held her hand for her key and Dean silently deposited in her palm. “I already have a spot picked out to burn and bury that fucker so….you can follow me I guess and then we can go get something to eat. There’s this little place down the street that has amazing pancakes.”   
She led them to an abandoned cement factory a few blocks from the strip club. The three dug a shallow grave for the shifter, Cas tossed him into the hole and River dropped a match. “Look who’s still on the top of the food chain, fucker.” She muttered as the flames ate away at the body. “So who wants pancakes?” River asked clapping her hands after they filled in the shallow smoking grave. Dean let out a long breath, a muscle twitched in his jaw. “Are you gonna give me the silent treatment?” River finally asked.

“No,” Dean answered.

“No to pancakes or no to the silent treatment?” she asked turning away from the grave. She threw the shovel into her trunk.

“Yes to pancakes. No to the silent treatment.”

“I don’t want pancakes,” Castiel added.

River smiled. “Ok, then. Yeah this won’t be awkward at all…” They left the cement factory and headed to a less sketchy neighborhood. A small brightly lit diner was the only thing open on the street. 

They choose a booth near the back of the diner and the waitress came to take their orders. “Three orders of the banana bread pancakes, three black coffees, two slices of pecan pie?” River nodded and handed the waitress the plastic menus. She drummed her fingers on the table nervously looking across at Dean and Castiel. Dean stared at her like she might spontaneously combust at any moment, Castiel’s eyes were downcast and he wore a small frown. 

“River, I wish to apologize again for my actions under Famines influence,” the Angel mumbled. “I never meant for…that to happen. Or to harm you, ever, in any way.”

Rivers cheeks grew warm and pink, her eyes wet and shining under the bright fluorescent lights. “Don’t apologize. Don’t do that. Please,” she sniffed. “It happened. It was fucked up. You didn’t do anything wrong, Cas. I couldn’t stop him either.” She paused as the waitress poured their cups of coffee. Dean shifted uncomfortably next to Cas. “It could’ve been worse. It could’ve been a lot fucking worse…” she muttered taking a sip of the hot coffee. She briefly met Dean’s green eyes before looking away. “I don’t want it to happen again. Ok? I care about you, Cas. I do and I’m sorry if this confused you or I don’t know… But sex screws things up. I care about you and I don’t want to loose you as a friend. Unless you don’t want to be friends anymore?” River gave him a small nervous smile.

“I wish to still be your friend,” Castiel told her. 

River gave him a bigger smile, “Ok. Great…So where’s Sam?”

“We’re takin’ separate vacations for a while,” Dean said. “He needs to get his head straight. I need to get mine straight too.” 

She nodded, “So the way you’re getting your head straight is by stalking me?”

“I’m not stalking you.”

“It’s kind of stalker-ish to show up at your ex-girlfriends work and then get your buddy to grab her.” The waitress dropped off their plates of food and gave Dean and Cas a wary look before retreating.

Dean gave the waitress a chagrinned smile then turned his green eyes back to River, “I didn’t tell Cas to grab you and I am not stalking you. I was concerned-“

“Funny how you weren’t concerned when you ditched me in Ohio,” River said taking a bite of pancake. 

“I didn’t come here to argue,” Dean replied.

“Why the fuck did you come then?”

Dean sighed and looked to the Angel. “We are searching for Raphael,” Castiel told her.

“The Ninja Turtle?” she asked spearing another slice of banana pancake.

“The Archangel,” Dean clarified. 

River nodded, “The tri-state power outage and the earthquake. That was Raphael making landfall?” Castiel nodded. “Why the hell are you looking for him?”

“Well, unlike that feathered douche Gabriel, Raphael has been in heaven. Cas thinks he might know where God is.” Dean grumbled.

“Right. ‘Cause then maybe God could elbow drop Satan back to the pit?” River sighed and took another drink of her coffee. “Well, good luck with that.”

“You don’t wish to assist us?” Castiel asked.

“No not really. There’s a case in South Carolina I’m gonna go check out.”

“Look, I’m sorry ok. I’m sorry we left you in Ohio. I’m sorry I’ve been a dick…Sam could’ve died. We all could’ve died.”

“Sam broke the fucking world because he wouldn’t listen. I lied to you about Gabriel. You….” she trailed off and took a deep breath, “We all made our choices now we have to deal with them.”

“Where is Gabriel?” Castiel asked.

She shrugged, “I left him in Miami judging wet t-shirt contests.” Castiel nodded and disappeared causing their paper napkins to flutter in his wake. 

“I don’t want you out there on your own. I want you with us,” Dean told her. 

She shook her head stubbornly, “No. Same song different verse Dean. We make up, we fuck, pretend everything’s ok until the next wave of shit and then what? We do something shitty to each other. You mess around, I lie or run away. We aren’t good for each other, Winchester.”

“You don’t mean that,” he said quietly. 

Castiel reappeared at the table, “Gabriel is no longer in Florida.”

“Well, color me shocked. It was nice catching up. But I have a job to get to.” The waitress came back with the bill and River reached into her bag for some cash.

“Try not to give the nice lady any bills that were stuck in your G-String.” Dean muttered.

The waitress wrinkled her nose at the cash River still clutched in her hand, “I’ll just come back.”

Rivers face and chest burned with anger. She took a sip of her now lukewarm coffee then dumped the rest of it on Dean’s half eaten pancakes. “Fuck you, Winchester,” she pushed the plate of soggy pancakes into Dean’s lap, grabbed her bag and stormed away.

“Fuck!” Dean said to himself picking pieces of wet, sticky pancakes off his jeans. River abruptly turned back towards the table while digging through her bag. Dean thought for a moment she might shoot him. Instead she pulled out a garish sparkly pink gift bag.

She slammed the bag onto the table,”Happy Birthday. I was going to take it by Bobby’s but I just can’t seem to make it to South Dakota. I bought it with money that was most definitely stuck in my G-String, so if you don’t want it- fuck you.” Dean stared at her retreating back and then watched through the grimy window as she climbed into her car and drove away before he reached for the bag. Inside was a box wrapped in rainbow unicorn wrapping paper, a small package wrapped in more glittery pink tissue paper and a card. He opened the card first reading River’s messy handwriting:  
“Happy Birthday Hot Stuff! You’re officially ancient in hunters years. Don’t drink it all in one sitting. It’s meant to be sipped like you’re a fucking gentleman- Love, River”  
He opened the box and found an Ichiro Malt single Japanese whiskey, “Fuck.” He ripped open the pink tissue paper next and found a vintage Led Zeppelin tour shirt, “Double Fuck. I am such an asshole!”

“What’s a G-String?” Castiel asked from beside him. 

Authors note: Thank you everyone for the reviews. I had a moment and needed to vent. Extra thanks to Ladysunshine6. I promise Dean will stop being an asshat soon. I love Dean don’t get me wrong but he’s got to find his way through the muddy waters of being in an adult relationship with someone other than his brother lol.


	42. chapter 42

Ch 42

“Haven’t you heard Castiel? God is dead,” Raphael growled from behind the wall of flames. Dean and Castiel had managed to summon and trap the Archangel in a ring of Holy Oil fueled fire. Unlike Gabriel’s air of flamboyant egotism, Raphael radiated power and malice. The air crackled with his power, Dean felt the little hairs on his arms and neck standing at attention, the metal fillings in his back teeth tingled. 

Castiel stood next to him, glaring through the flames at the Archangel, “I don’t believe that. God brought me back.”

Raphael shook his head, “No brother. I don’t think so. What use would our father have with a disgraced Seraphim?” He smiled darkly. “I believe Lucifer himself resurrected you. Think about it, he needs all the rebellious angels he can find.” The wind roared through the broken windows of the abandoned house lashing the angel and the hunter in cold rain. The Holy fire flickered but held the Archangel captive.

Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “No. Let’s go.” He said to Dean turning away from his trapped brother.

“Castiel, I’m warning you: do not leave me here.” Raphael threatened. “I will find you.”

Castiel looked back over his shoulder, “Maybe someday. But today you’re my little bitch.” 

Dean smiled; he wasn’t exactly positive that his and Rivers apparent influence on Cas was a good thing. “What he said,” he said smirking at Raphael’s seething face. They left Raphael trapped in the ring of holy fire in the abandoned house 30 miles from the nearest town. It would take him several days to summon assistance to break free.

“Look, I know what it’s like to go looking for your dad when he doesn’t want to be found. I knew I’d find my dad, I knew he wasn’t dead even when me and Sam found evidence to the contrary.” They were back in the Impala, barreling down a dark highway putting as much distance as possible between themselves and Raphael. “Do you feel like God is dead?”

Castiel shook his head, “No. I have to have faith I will find him.”

“Well, then go find him. Or….we could cut out the middle man. And you can help me find a way to gank Lucifer,” Dean told him. He glanced sideways across the seat at his friend. He’d just said aloud the impossible plan that had been brewing in the back of his mind for weeks.

“You want to try and kill Lucifer?” Castiel clarified.

“I’m a hunter, Cas. I kill monsters. Lucifer’s the biggest monster around right now, so yeah I want to kill him.” Castiel nodded and disappeared. Dean looked at the empty seat for several long seconds before he pulled his phone out and called River. She didn’t answer of course, probably didn’t want to give him the chance to track her phone again. He tossed the phone on the empty seat next to him. His stomach rumbled and he realized he hadn’t eaten in almost 24 hours, barbecue sounded good. Kansas City barbecue to be specific. 

A few hundred miles away Sam was having a bad night. He had left Bobby’s to clear his head and get away from hunting for a while. Away from demons and demon blood, away from his overbearing fate as Lucifers vessel. He’d found a quiet road side sports bar in a refreshingly demon free town that needed a busboy. The work was easy. Mind numbingly easy. Wipe the tables, pick up the dirty dishes, smile politely at drunk guests. If the bar tender called off he filled in. Wash, rinse, repeat. It was enough to distract him from the real problems he still had to face. Until the night three hunters came in for a pregame round of drinks. Sam hadn’t recognized them at first but the leader, Verne, recognized him almost immediately. “Sam? Sam Winchester is that you?” the shorter blonde man had called across the bar. “It’s Verne. I worked with your daddy on a few cases. Must been what? Ten years ago. Sorry to hear about your old man. He was a tough son of a bitch.” 

Sam gave him a tight smile, “Yeah, yeah he was. What are you all doin’ in town?” The hunters had tracked a demon across state lines. It was apparently holed up in a barn a few miles from the bar. 

“You wanna join us? For old times sake?” Verne asked.

Sam shook his head, “I uh… I’m not hunting anymore.” The hunters gave him a surprised look look didn’t push him before squaring their tab and leaving the bar. 

Two of the hunters returned to the bar just as Sam was closing up for the night. Apparently the demon had set a trap for them. One demon turned into a group of ten and the hunters had lost one of their own in the melee. The two remaining hunters had escaped but not before the demons had told them a very unexpected story. Apparently, Sam Winchester himself had started the apocalypse and let the Devil free. Hunters and anyone else with a lick of sense had immediately recognized the beginning of the End. The hunters attacked Sam, trying to force him to take demon blood so that he would be strong enough to destroy the demons that had killed their friend. In the end Sam was able to resist the blood and beat the hunters to a pulp before running away. As he drove away from the bar he realized this wasn’t something he could run from. Lucifer was trying to smoke him out. Turning other hunters against him, against his brother and anyone else that allied with him.  
****  
River made it to South Carolina and was on the trail of a werewolf. It was the last night of the moons cycle and if she couldn’t kill the wolf tonight…well she didn’t really feel like staying in South Carolina for another month. There had been police reports from three separate farms of mutilated animals; hearts ripped out and ostensibly eaten by an unknown predator. Then the first human victim had been discovered early yesterday, a worker on one of the farms found in the stable. His chest a bloody hole and heart missing. 

The hunter downed the last of her energy drink, grabbed her silver bullet loaded pistol and got out her car. She crept around the outer perimeter of the farm following the tracks she’d found in the soft earth. A twig crunched to her left and she ducked behind a tree. Muffled voices broke through the chirping crickets, an owl was startled from its nest and set off through the tree tops with a loud screech. A shadowed group of three or four individuals shuffled through the underbrush. They were making enough noise to alert the neighbors at the next farm. 

Suddenly a dark lopping figure streaked past River and headed straight for the noisy, clueless group. She screamed, “Get down!” The figures spun around and in the moonlight River saw there was actually five people and they were all armed to the teeth. Four of the men complied and hit the dirt, the fifth stood stupidly for a fraction of a second too long trying to get his jammed gun to fire. The werewolf, a scruffy, dirty woman raced towards him. River skidded to a halt took a quick breath to steady her arm, aimed and fired. The monster slammed into the man and he started screaming and writhing on the ground. “God damn it!” River yelled picking up her speed again. The men on the ground scrambled towards their friend who was still screaming. Laughter broke out amongst the group and River stopped warily several feet from them. 

The man on the ground stopped screaming and flung the dead woman off of himself, “It’s not funny you assholes.” He wiped werewolf blood off his face and jacket and saw River backing slowly away trying not to attract any more attention to herself. “Hey there missy! Where do you think your off to?”

She stopped her retreat and smiled tightly at the group of men, “Wow, that lady was crazy. Must’ve had rabies or something.” The group broke out in laughter again. 

“Yeah rabies. Come on now missy we all know a Hunter when we see one same as you.” Another of the men called. 

“Fuck,” River thought quickly to herself. She generally did not like working with hunters she did not know or that didn’t come with a recommendation from Bobby or Rufus. “Yeah, ya got me. Sorry if I took your kill. I didn’t know there were other Hunters in the area.”

“Name’s Mike, this is my brother Joey who’s ass you just saved. Thats Steve, Ryan, and Lance. What’s your name?” The men each gave her a quick nod.

“Sarah,” she replied with the first name that popped in her head. 

“Well Sarah, how about we buy you a beer?”

————-

“Cas I need to sleep man, I just drove eighteen hours straight,” Dean grumbled into his cellphone. The Angel had had the misfortune to call Dean less than ten minutes after he had dodged a greasy, cheap suited street corner preacher on his way into the dirty hostel. He’d left the preacher to yell at the closed door about eternal hellfire. Now Dean was in no mood for anything besides collapsing on his bed and falling into exhausted unconsciousness.

“Dean this important. I’ve done as you asked. I have been searching for a way to kill Lucifer and I have heard whispers among certain demons that The Colt is possibly being held by one of their own.” Castiel told him.

Dean sighed tiredly, closing the moth eaten curtains against the glare of the neon light outside. “The Colt? Cas that doesn’t make any damn sense. Why would demons keep a gun laying around that could kill demons? If they got their paws on The Colt I guarantee the first thing they did was melt it down.”

A truck horn blared on Castiel’s end of the line and Dean shook his head smiling at the ridiculous notion of talking with a messenger of God on a cheap gas station cell phone. “Dean, I hear differently. And if you are still set on trying to kill Lucifer this may be our best option.”

“Ok, ok. Where do start?” Dean asked.

“Where are you?” Castiel asked.

Dean fumbled for the plastic key ring attached to his room key, “Century Motel Kansas City Room 113.”

Cas nodded on his end, “I will be there immediately.”

“Whoa whoa. No you won’t pal. I just told you I’ve been driving non-stop. I am exhausted. I need at least four hours of sleep every couple of days ok? I’ll see you in the morning.” He hung up the phone not waiting for Castiel’s response. He collapsed on to the bed with a loud groan and fell asleep almost instantly. He’d barely hit REM sleep when his phone started vibrating on the nightstand. He cursed in annoyance and grabbed for the phone in the dark, “God Damn it Cas. I told you I need to sleep!”

“Dean, it’s me, “ Sam said quietly. He’d been driving for hours, putting miles between himself and the Hunters that had turned on him.

“Hey Sammy. How goes it?” Dean asked sitting up and stretching his stiff neck. He could hear the soft rumble of an engine in the background and knew his brother was driving somewhere. He padded over to the small dirty fridge in the corner of room and grabbed a beer.

Sam took a deep breath, “Not good. I uh…I just beat the shit out a bunch of hunters.” Dean snorted on his beer. “They were going after some demons and I guess the demons just happened to let it slip I started the Apocalypse.”

“Well it was only a matter of time before it got out,” Dean sighed heavily.

“Dean, He’s coming after me; I can feel it. He’s making sure I have nowhere to hide.”

“Lucifer can’t find you; not with Cas’s protection. He’s just sending out feelers trying to rout you out.”

“I’m tired of hiding Dean. I wanna make a stand. I wanna go after this son of a bitch. I want back in,” Sam said darkly.

Dean laughed, “Revenge? That didn’t go too good for us last time.”

“No, I want redemption. I’m tired of being their puppet, Dean. I want to end this.”

“There’s no ending this brother. We’re in it for the long haul no matter what. The best thing we can do is pick a hemisphere and stay apart. Let ‘em chase their tails trying to find us.” Dean said taking a long drink of the cold beer.

Sam sighed, “Dean I can do this. I’ll prove it to you, please.”

“Look, Sam. Me and you we’re the oil and fire of Armageddon. We should stay away from each other for good…what’s between us love, family, whatever River’s right they’re gonna use it against us.”

“Dean, we can fight this!” Sam urged.

“Yeah, we can. But not together. We aren’t stronger together, we’re weaker and you know that and so do they.”

“Dean, don’t do this.” Sams grip tightened on around his cell.

“Bye Sammy.” Dean disconnected the call and drained the rest of his beer. If he could get back to sleep he could get at least another three hours before Cas showed up. He flopped back on the bed and tucked his pillow around his head to block out the sounds of sirens blaring by outside. He woke sometime after dawn; the bright sunlight burning through his tired eyelids. He sat up groggily, squinting his eyes against the intruding sunlight. The light was pouring in through the broken window, shattered glass ground into the disgusting stained carpet. The lumpy bed he had fallen asleep on was now little more than a wire frame. The paint peeling and covered in black splotches of mold. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. Dean stood unsurely and made his way to the window. The sight outside was reflective of the room he stood in: complete destruction, cars overturned in the streets, trash blew by in the lite breeze, businesses were shuttered closed or with all the windows busted out. He made his was carefully down the sagging staircase and quietly crept out onto the deserted street. There were no signs of life, no stray dogs, no birds. Nothing but Dean and his pounding heart. 

He walked several blocks, the destruction was widespread and void of life. Until he turned a corner and heard the sharp clatter of broken glass echoing from an alley. He crept towards the sounds and found a young girl kneeling on the ground in pile of glass. Her hair a dirty rats nest that framed her filthy face. “Little girl?” Dean murmured. She gurgled up a blob of thick bloody spit and growled. “Little…girl?” he repeated taking a step back. She suddenly sprang to her feet and lunged for him, snarling like a feral animal and slashing his arm with a shard of glass. He reacted on instinct and landed a solid blow to her tiny jaw sending her flying backwards into a pile of trash where she lay unconscious. The clamor drew a crowd, Dean was soon face to face with at least a dozen filthy snarling individuals. Their eyes void of any human emotion except malice. 

Dean darted past them and ran as fast as his bowed legs could move. He pelted down the street avoiding the rusted remains of car crashes, chunks of exploded asphalt and pot holes. The snarling mass of bodies swarmed after him, he quickly ran out of open street and almost slammed into a fifteen foot high chain link fence. “Fuck,” he muttered breathlessly. He turned to face the rabid group that was quickly gaining on him. The screech of brakes sounded from behind the chainlink fence as two military Humvees loaded with troops swerved to a stop. Guns N’ Roses “Welcome to the Jungle” blaring from one of the vehicles as a half dozen camouflage covered soldieries jumped out, each swinging an AR-15. Dean dove behind a cement barrier as the soldiers unloaded into the crowd, bullet casings and blood splattering the dirty street. Once the soldiers had mowed down the snarling people they turned their automatic weapon fire on Dean as he scrambled from behind the barrier. He zig zagged down several streets finally diving into an alley and hiding behind a dumpster. The Humvees streaked past half a minute later still blaring Guns N’ Roses. 

Dean let out a long breath and wiped the sweat off his forehead with his shirt sleeve. He sat quietly behind the dumpster racking his brain as to what exactly he could be dealing with. A djinn? No, they dealt in happy dreams and this was certainly not that. Witches? Maybe. Under the cover of night he finally left his hiding spot and found a weak spot in the chainlink fence that he could squeeze through. Once on the other side of the fence he noticed a big metal sign wanting against trespassers “Warning Croatoan Hot Zone. Mandatory Evacuations in Place.” Dean scratched some dried blood off the bottom of the sign and suddenly felt like the Earth dropped out from beneath him. A date was stamped onto the metal sign. A date five years in the future. He and his brother had encounter the Croatoan virus three years prior during their search for their missing father. The virus infected people with murderous rage, stripping them of their humanity and reason. The time jump he couldn’t explain but maybe he could find someone that could.

Dean skirted through the empty streets until he found a decent looking car. A few minutes under the hood and more than a few choice words he got the car hot-wired and hit the road. His cellphone didn’t work, the radio was nothing but static and he never passed another car or living soul on the open highway. 

“Croatoan Pandemic reaches Austrailia” Zachariah’s smug, self satisfied voice almost made Dean almost jump out of his skin. 

“Son of a bitch. I should of known this had your stink all over it,” Dean muttered. 

Zachariah continued reading from the crinkled newspaper he held in his hands, “President Johnson defends bombing of Houston. How does one go from professional wrestler to President of the United States? Hmmm only in America.” The Angel laughed. Dean just glared angrily across the seat. “Lets check the sports section- oh wait there are no more sports, Congress revoked the right to group assembly. Just asking for a bite fest.”

“How the hell did you find me?”

Zachariah turned the page of the newspaper, “Well, since you’ve been hiding like a spineless coward we’ve had to employ some unorthodox methods as of late…we’ve infiltrated some fringe evangelical sects, a burning bush here, an inspirational session of speaking in tongues there. We’ve recruited a righteous army of human informants. We gave them your likeness with instructions to contact us with any sightings.”

Dean shook his head, “The dime store preacher outside the hostel? He called the angelic tip line.” Zachariah nodded. “Well you’ve had your fun now Marty McFly me back.”

“Oh you’ll get back, all in good time. Three days, Dean. We want you to see and understand where your defiance in the face of God will lead you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Zachariah sighed loudly, “It means your choices have consequences, Dean.” He snapped the newspaper at Dean, tapping at the headline, “This is what happens to the world if you say ‘No’ to Michael. Enjoy the sights, Dean.” Zachariah disappeared leaving the neatly folded newspaper laying on the seat. 

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered slamming his fist into the steering wheel. He passed a bullet marred highway marker about fifteen minutes later; Sioux Falls 250 miles away. 

The Singer Salvage yard looked little worse for wear, the piles of cars perhaps a bit more rusted than they had been previously. The house sagged at a pronounced slant, the bottom floor windows broken or boarded up. The door hung mostly open on its broken hinges, “Bobby?” Dean yelled through the crack, “Bobby! I’m comin’ in!” He toed the door open and steeped into Bobby’s cluttered foyer. Stacks of books, rolls of parchment and piles of trash were all covered in a heavy layer of dust. A quick scan of the floor told Dean no one had been inside the home in some time. He trekked further inside and found a rusted bullet riddled wheelchair in the kitchen. “Shit,” he murmured touching his fingers to the dried streaks of blood. “Where is everybody?” Dean left the wheelchair and systematically checked each of Bobby’s hiding spots until he found the older Hunters journal in the secret compartment above the ornate fireplace. Inside he found a wrinkled black and white photo; Bobby in his wheelchair surrounded by six people Dean didn’t know and two he did. Cas and River stood on the periphery of the group, each cradling an assault rifle and standing in front of sign for a place called ‘Camp Chitaqua’. Dean vaguely remembered the camp from his childhood years, Bobby had taken him and Sam there for archery practice. 

The camp was easy enough to find from memory alone. Getting in the camp was a bit more a challenge, the perimeter of the camp was protected by high chain link fences and roaming sets of armed guards. Dean was about to give up and wait for daylight when a rusted metal skeleton caught his attention, “Oh Baby, no. What did they do to you?” The remains of his beloved Impala were on the other side of the fence. He waited for the armed sentries to pass and nimbly climbed the chainlink. He was so distracted by the gut wrenching site of his beautiful car dismantled and left to rot that he didn’t see the shadow converge on him.

When he woke sometime later Dean found himself handcuffed to a pipe in a dimly lit basement. His green eyes roamed over the dark shapes of the basement before they settled on his doppelgänger sitting across the room, cleaning a rifle like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Wondered when you’d wake up,” the other Dean said quietly setting the riffle down. 

Dean pulled on the handcuff and sighed, “Look man, I’m not a shapeshifter or a demon or anything…”

“Yeah, I know. I ran all the tests while you were out: silver, holy water, salt. Nothing. But you know whats funny? You carry every lock pick, box cutter and switch blade that I carry,” the other Dean pointed to a pile of confiscated weapons on the table next to his rifle. “And how do you explain the devilishly handsome mug you’re wearing?”

Dean shifted on the hard ground, “Zachariah.”

The other Dean stood up and looked down at him, “Come again?” 

“I’m you from about five year ago give or take. Zach plucked me outta bed and zapped me here.”

Future Dean cocked his head and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, “If you’re me, tell me something only we would know.”

Dean pursed his lips quickly racking his brain, “Oh. Ok. Rhonda Hurley. We were 19? She made us try on her panties.” Dean smiled, embarrassed at the memory, “They were pink. And satiny. And you know what? We kind of like it.”

“Touche’,” Future Dean responded. “So Zachariah sent you here to what? Show you how bad things get?”

“Yeah I guess,” Dean took a deep breath, “Croatoan virus is their endgame?”

Future Dean nodded, “Yep. Blood borne, highly infective. Scary as hell. Incurable. Turns people into monsters. Started hitting all the major cities about two years ago, it was worldwide within six months. Everything kind of went to shit after that.”

“What about Sam?”

Future Dean paused his brows furrowed, “Heavy weight showdown in Detroit. From what I understand, Sam didn’t make it.”

“You weren’t with him?”

Future Dean shook his head, “Me and Sam hadn’t talked in…a long time.”

“We never went after him?”

“No, we had other people to look after.” Future Dean gathered his rifle and stuffed his pockets with extra bullets from a box on the table.

“Where are you goin?”

“I got an errand to run,” Dean answered vaguely. “You’re safer down here. I got a camp full of twitchy, trigger happy survivors out there. I don’t need you topside messing with anyones heads….I'll leave the light on for ya.” Future Dean gave him a sarcastic smile then left him alone. It took Dean until dawn to get free of the handcuffs. He walked outside to fresh, cold air and dull winter sunlight. He was in a building on the periphery of the settlement. He’d only walked a few dozen yards when he heard raised voices coming from between a couple of cabins to his left. Dean cautiously headed towards the angry voices and peaked around the corner. He saw two women standing a few feet apart apparently in the middle of a heated discussion.

“Just tell me if he was in your cabin last night!” The taller brunette yelled. 

The other woman was shorter with red hair piled into a messy knot on top of her head, “Rissa, how times do I have to tell you I moved out of our cabin over a year ago. I have no fucking idea who Dean is fucking anymore, ok? But it certainly isn’t me.” Dean ducked back behind the wall as River turned away from Rissa.

“You slut! You think you can just strut around camp like the Queen Bee…Me and Dean have a connection, he told me himself!” Rissa yelled as she dove for River’s back. River stumbled under the other woman’s weight, slipping on the soft earth but quickly recovering. She flipped Rissa off of her, pinned her to the ground, wrapping her legs around the other woman and pulled Rissa’s right arm into an armbar Chuck Liddell would have tapped out of. Dean heard Rissa cry out in pain as River adjusted her hold. 

“Let’s just clarify a few things shall we?” River grunted. “Number 1: Technically I’m still married to Dean which means you’re fucking my husband making you the slut. Number 2: Don’t ever try and attack me when my back is turned. I take that shit personally. Number 3: Queen Bee? I see myself as more of a Veronica than a Heather.” River glanced up and saw Dean checking from behind the wall. “Oh look, here’s Don Juan De Douchebag now. Why don’t you ask him where he spent the night?” River released her hold on the other woman, Rissa scrambled for her feet and glared at Dean. She huffed loudly without speaking to him and stormed off, rubbing her sore arm. River chuckled to herself wiping the mud off her pants. “That’s a good one you picked, Winchester. She’s lots of fun.”

“Wh-what?” Dean stammered.

“Get your girlfriend a muzzle,” River told him walking past him. 

“Hey, Riv. Wait! I need to talk to you!” he yelled.

She kept walking and yelled over her shoulder, “I think Chuck needs to see you.” Dean spun around and watched as Chuck Shurely, prophet of the Lord, walked quickly towards him.

“Dean! Thank goodness, I need to talk to you about our supplies. We are good on canned food for now but we are desperately low on personal hygiene supplies. There’s a crew leaving in an hour and I need the ok to send them with this new list,” Chuck handed Dean a scribbled list of items including among other things toilet paper and toothpaste.

“Yeah, Chuck. Sure. Whatever,” Dean mumbled pushing past him.

Chuck nodded, “Great….Wait. I though you were out on a mission?”

Dean lost track of River in the winding maze of tents, cabins and vehicles. He wondered around for several minutes, trying to avoid any more run-ins with pissed off women or people wanting him to make decisions. 

River made her way across the compound to one of the larger buildings. She entered quietly and watched from the doorway as Castiel preached to his flock of concubines. “…in that way we are all one part of the bigger collection of energies that make up the shared perception of reality. And the way to gather our energies together to open that higher perception is surprisingly physical.” Several of the women in the group leaned forward expectantly. River sighed loudly, rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Castiel looked over his shoulder and met River’s annoyed blue eyes, he smiled at her and she raised her eyebrows in return. “Ladies, I think I should pause there. We’ll resume in just a short while. Why don’t you all get prepared for the orgy?” The women smiled at Cas and left as he asked. 

“Orgy, Castiel?” River said kicking her boots off and sitting on one of the fluffy pillows next to him. Cas shrugged his shoulders and smirked. “You do remember what today is right?”

“Uhmm…Thursday?” He said dreamily.

“No, Cas. It’s our supply run. The run you promised to go on with me. You said you’d fucking have my back while I lead six greenies three blocks into the red zone for some fucking toilet paper.” She poked him angrily in the arm.

Cas jerked his arm away and rubbed where she had just poked him, “Oh…River it must have slipped my mind. I can’t cancel the orgy. They’re depending on me…and I already took two Viagra.”

River sighed angrily, running her hands through her red hair. Hair that now had a thick chunk of stark white strands near her right temple. “You promised. God damn it, Cassie I need you with me. I’ve got six kids to take care of out there. The oldest one is 19!”

“You look tense. How about I give you a massage?” Castiel leaned over and started rubbing her neck.

“The last time you gave me massage….”she groaned letting her head drop, “I don’t have time for your tantric sex bullshit. And I don’t wanna catch ‘the Clap’. I treated some of those hoes after your last ‘orgy’ and I don’t want any part of that. A little to the left…oh fuck yeah right there, Angel.” Castiel worked a particularly stiff knot out of her shoulder blade and she moaned contentedly. “Do you need anything specific while I’m out there? Chuck wants me to look for hand sanitizer and wet wipes.”

“Anything that contains amphetamines would be nice. Maybe some more oxycontin?”

She turned to look at him, “I am not helping you with your drug addiction. Sober the fuck up, Cas. Between you and Dean…” The beaded curtain jangled and in stepped Dean. “Speaking of our fearless leader; I thought you were going on a mission today?” Dean stopped at the doorway, looking at the candles and incense burning on tables and pillars around the room then down at Cas and River.

“Huh? Oh umm yeah…about that,” Dean stuttered. 

River was on her feet in an instant gun drawn and pointed at Dean’s face. Dean didn’t pause, didn’t stutter, when he talked it was prepared, well thought out and meticulous. Like he didn’t have time or patience for idle chit chat anymore. On top of that River hadn’t seen him without that god damn thigh holster in almost two years. “Cas what is he? I thought shifters were extinct.”

Castiel nodded and stood slowly investigating Dean with his keen cornflower blue eyes. He placed a hand gently on River’s pistol and she shot him an unsure look, “This is very strange. You’re you. But not from ‘now’. When are you from?”

“What the hell are you talking about Cassie?” River murmured.

“I can explain,” Dean said quickly.

“Do it fast or I shoot,” River told him.

“I’m me. I’m just from five years ago.”

Cas nodded his head serenely, “Fascinating. Who did this to you? Was it Zachariah?”

“Yes! Exactly,” Dean smiled and clapped his hands, “So how about you strap on your Angel wings and fly me back home.”

River smiled humorlessly, “Cas ain’t an Angel anymore, sugar lips.” 

Castiel laughed as well and shook his head, “No more Angel wings, Dean-o.”

“What? Are you stoned? Is he stoned?” Dean asked turning to River. 

She nodded and tucked her gun into her belt, “Yeah as a general rule he is. Heavens cut off, they battered down the hatches when shit hit the fan in Detroit. Cas’ grace just kind of…fizzled out and now he’s a fucking sex obsessed drug addict…. You two should catch up.” She said pulling her boots back on like a time traveler appearing in their midst was common place.

“So umm…. you married me?” Dean asked as she stood back up, tucking her hair back into a tight knot out of her face.

River reached her hand out and softly traced Dean’s jaw then placed her palm on his chest over his anti-possession tattoo, “It was the biggest, best mistake of my life.” She looked over her shoulder at Castiel, “I gotta go. We should be back before sunset.” Castiel flopped back down on his favorite pillow and pulled a stale joint out of his pocket. He lit it and offered Dean a hit, Dean shook his head tiredly and watched as River left through the beaded curtain. 

She left Castiel’s cabin and made her way to the line of waiting jeeps by the exit gate where her team had assembled. A small group of zitty, nervous teenagers stood waiting for her. The only ones that could apparently be spared for the supply run. Dean had taken the more able-bodied on his own excursion and they weren’t expected back for several more hours. River swallowed down the annoying tendrils of fear that crept up her spine when she head to leave the safety of the compound and signaled to her party to head out.

Future Dean returned from his own mission before mid-afternoon. He immediately called a meeting with Dean, Chuck (who nervously sat in for River) and Cas who kicked his feet up on the table and immediately fell asleep. “So what was your mission?” Dean asked himself.

Future Dean smiled and sat his duffle bag down on the table, “This.” He reached inside and within the folds of a piece of black fabric he pulled out the Colt.

“The Colt? Where was it?” Dean asked standing up to get a better look. 

“Everywhere, they’ve been moving it around for the last five years. But our intel finally paid off. And if anything can kill the Devil it’s this.”

Chuck raised a nervous hand, “But is there anything that can find Satan?”

Future Dean smiled widely, “Don’t need to find him. I already know exactly where he is.”

Castiel roused himself, “And how exactly do we know where Lucifer is?”

“The demon we caught last week, he was in the big guys inner circle. He told me exactly where to find the son of a bitch.”

“So your trusting the word of a demon?” Dean asked.

Castiel chuckled, “Our fearless leader is very good at getting to the truth.”

“Torture? Is that what you mean? We’re torturing again? That’s classy.” Dean sneered in disgust.

Future Dean smirked cockily, “River was right there with me. She’s pretty good with a pair of pliers and a blowtorch.” He pulled a map out of his jacket pocket and pointed to a red circle, “He’s here, I know the street and the building. We head out tonight at midnight.” The meeting was interrupted by a loud knock on the door to Dean’s cabin. Dean opened the door and a sweaty, pale man stood unsurely before him. “I said no interruptions.”

“Yes, sir. I know but River is back-“

“Then tell her to report here. Rissa or Jane or one of the others can take inventory,” Dean barked.

The man took a step back, “She’s waiting for you outside the gate, sir.”

“Tell her to get her stubborn ass in here now!”

“She’s outside the gate sir. She wants to see you, both of you and Castiel,” the man stammered and retreated quickly from Dean after he waived him off.

A muscle twitched in Dean’s neck and he turned back towards the table. He grabbed the Colt and stuffed it in the back of his jeans. “You all stay here. We’ll finish this when we get back. You two,” Future Dean pointed at Dean and Cas, “Come on.” They walked quickly through the darkening camp towards the main gate. Two jeeps were being unloaded of boxes by several people. Three armed guards stood at the gate staring out. Dean nodded to one of the men and the gate was swung open. River stood a few dozen feet away her arms crossed over her chest. “River, what happened out there?” Dean called to her. She held a hand up indicating for him to stop.

“We got the supplies. You should be good for a while if you ration,” she smiled sadly. “I found these, Cas. It’s Adderall and some hydromorphone. Don’t OD.” She tossed the pill bottles to Cas.

“What happened?” Dean repeated. She held up her other hand, it was wrapped in a bloody bandage. “No! Fuck! God damn it!” he yelled.

She lowered her arm to her side. Dean stared, unsure of exactly what was going on, “River, sweet heart, come inside we’ll get you cleaned up.”

“It doesn’t work like that, hot stuff…. Don’t come any closer!” River yelled when he took a few steps towards her. The men behind the gate shifted, she could hear them pulling the slides back on their rifles. “It was me or them Dean. I chose them, they’re just kids…” She blinked several times and took a deep breath, “We wasted so much time pushing each other away.” She paused again to watch a flock of geese fly over the crystal blue lake behind the camp, “I always loved you. From the minute you quoted Vonnegut in that shitty laundromat it was all over for me,” she looked into Dean’s forrest green eyes then turned to the cold eyes of her Dean, “Bury me next to Bobby.” Future Dean gave her one quick nod of his head.

“Wh-?” Before Dean could ask what she meant River pulled her pistol from behind her back, tucked it under her jaw and pulled the trigger. The shot was deafening, her head snapped back and she crumpled silently to the soft earth. Dean wasn’t entirely sure if he screamed out loud or if it was only an echo in his head.

“Don’t get her blood on you, it can still be contagious.” Future Dean cautioned as Dean kneeled next to River’s dead body. He was going to be sick, or kill someone, or scream again. His mind couldn’t decide on what his reaction should be so he sat there on his knees in shock. “We can’t spare the fuel to burn her and the smoke…it might alert Croats to where we are. She knew that.” Future Dean cleared his throat and signaled to the men at the gate. Dean stared numbly as they picked River’s dead body up and placed it on a truck bed and drove away. Castiel opened the pill bottles and chewed one of each, grimacing at the bitter taste. They silently walked back to Dean’s cabin. “She’d want us to finish this.”

“I’ll round up the grunts,” Cas told them quietly before splintering off. 

Dean was still numb, having trouble processing what had just happened. “Why am I going with you?”

“You need to see something. You need to understand why you’re here,” Future Dean told him. “Sam didn’t die in Detroit. He said yes to Lucifer.”

“What? He wouldn’t-“

“He did. And I said ‘no’ to Michael and here we are. I thought by saying no I’d save them. Instead I’ve had to watch as one by one they’re taken from me. Sammy, Bobby, Castiel and now her.” He shook his head, “You need to understand so you can change it. You can say ‘Yes’ to Michael and you can stop this.”

Dean’s group left the compound before midnight. Castiel pointed to a large oak tree about a quarter mile outside the gate, “Thats where Bobby and River are. It’s a nice view. I like to get high there sometimes.” They drove until dawn and arrived in the middle of the red zone. 

Lucifer was using the old Jacksonville Sanatorium as the hub of his new empire. The streets surrounding the Sanatorium were mysteriously void of any Croat activity. “He’s on the third floor. We go straight through that door and head up the stairwell. They’ll never see us comin’. Check your weapons we head in in five,” Future Dean told his small group, a muscle twitched in his jaw and he avoided Castiel’s gaze.

“Can I talk to you a minute?” Dean asked himself. He led him to a secluded spot a ways from the group, “Why are you lying to them?” Future Dean smiled but didn’t deny it. “I know the look, I’ve seen it in the mirror a thousand times.”

Future Dean let out a long breath and ran his hand over his jaw,”They’re a distraction ok? They go in the front and they’ll draw any Croats or Demons to them leaving the back entrance open for us.” 

“There is something majorly broken in you, in us, if you’re even considering using your friends as bait.”

“This is the only way. I have to end this. There’s people depending on me to end this and save the world. I’ll do what needs to be done because I couldn’t before. I failed, I let the world end. I will end this tonight.”

“I’m not gonna let you sacrifice them. There’s another way,” Dean told him.

Future Dean shook his head, “No there isn’t.” He slammed the butt of his rifle into Deans jaw and then there was nothing but blackness. Dean woke sometime later to the distant sound of gunfire and screams. He still lay in the clearing but Castiel and the others were already gone. He ran towards the building searching for an entrance and found himself in a courtyard overgrowing with wild rose bushes. In the center of the courtyard the other him was trapped, flat on his back with a hulking white-suit wearing figure standing over him, one alabaster loafer pressed into his neck. The figure shifted his weight effortlessly snapping Deans neck. The hollow crack echoed off the stones and Deans stomach turned watching as the light behind his own eyes went out. It’s not every day you watch yourself die.

The figure slowly turned towards Dean, lighting crashed almost poetically in the background and illuminated Sam’s hazel eyes. Except they weren’t his brothers eyes, not exactly. Something was missing. There was a coldness that radiated off of him. “Hello, Dean. How very interesting it is to see you here,” He said stepping over the other Dean’s dead body. “You’ve traveled a long way to see this. Haven’t you?” Dean remained silent. “I’m sorry. It must be very difficult for you to see me like this. But it always had to be Sam.” He reached a hand towards Dean and the hunter pulled away with a sneer. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Dean. What is it you think I’m going to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know you just killed me so I guess it’s onto roasting the planet?”

Lucifer laughed, “Why would I do that? Why would I destroy the last beautiful, perfect creation of my father?” He inspected a perfect red rose blossom, “Do you know why I was cast out of heaven?”

Dean sighed loudly, “Please no bedtime stories. I’ve heard this one before.”

Lucifer cocked an eyebrow and turned back towards the hunter, “Then you know after my father created you, the hairless apes. He told us, his true children, to bow down and love you above all else. Above Him. My brothers and sisters kneeled obediently but not me. I saw you for what you truly were. Destructive, murderous, flawed. I refused and my father had Michael throw me into Hell.” He shook his head and watched as another bolt of lightening arched across the sky. “And there I’ve been while 6 billion of you destroy this perfect garden my Father created. And the whole time you blame me for the destruction. Who’s really burning this planet?”

Dean laughed, “Some part of me thought you’d be a little more impressive. But you're just the same bottom dwelling, belly dragging, piece of supernatural crap monster I’ve been squashing my whole life. Your ego’s just a little bigger.”

“I like you, Dean,” Lucifer laughed. “We’ll meet again.” He turned away from Dean and walked back towards the brick building behind them.

“You better kill me!” Dean yelled. 

Lucifer turned back around, “Excuse me?”

“You better kill me now! Otherwise I will find a way to kill you. I won’t stop. Ever.” Dean growled.

“I know, Dean. But I also know you will never say ‘yes’ to Michael. And you will never kill your brother,” The Devil smiled broadly, “No matter what you do, the small details may change but you will always end up here. I win….So see you in five years.” Lightening struck a rose bush engulfing it in flames. There was a flap of wings and Dean was alone in the courtyard, watching as bloom after bloom caught fire. Dean turned in a circle, watching as the fire grew around him when Zachariah appeared in front of him. The Angle touched Dean’s forehead and the courtyard vanished. Dean found himself back in the kitchenette of the dingy motel room he’d fallen asleep in.

“Get that shit eating grin off your face you smug son of a bitch,” Dean growled at the Angel.

Zachariah just shook his head. “Enough Dean. Enough,” he said quietly. “You saw what happened. You can stop that. Prevent those you love from dying horrible deaths.” He put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “ You can prove the Devil wrong; all you have to do is say ‘yes’ to Michael."

Dean stepped back, letting Zachariahs arm fall, “How do I know this isn’t one of your tricks?”

“The time for tricks is over,” Zachariah told him sincerely, “Say yes to Michael and we can strike Lucifer down before he gets to Sam.” 

Dean closed his eyes, remembering the sound River’s body made as it hit muddy earth, the screams of his dying friends. “Nah. I don’t think so.”

Zachariah’s eyes went wide when he spoke again his voice was tight, “You are really going to make this painful for yourself aren’t you?” Dean shrugged his shoulders. “I can send you back there as many times as it takes until it finally sinks into that hollow head-“ The Angel took a threatening step towards Dean. Dean steeled himself for whatever Zachariah had planned when he felt a tug around his midsection. When he blinked he was no longer staring into Zachariahs furious face instead Castiel stood in front of him with a bemused smile.

“Great timing, Cas,” Dean told him.

“We had an appointment,” Castiel replied.

“Don’t ever change Cas” Dean said pulling out his cellphone.

“What are you doing?” 

“Something I should’ve done in the first place,” he muttered. 

Several hours later Dean found himself waiting on an overgrown dirt road, leaning against the hood of his car waiting for his brothers arrival. Sam was punctual, as usual. His own stolen car trundling down the dirt road towards Dean. His younger brother got out of the car slowly and walked towards him. “Hey, Sammy.” He said quietly. Sam nodded unsurely. Dean cleared his throat, reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved the Demon blade. 

“Dean?” Sam asked taking a half step back from his brother.

Dean held the blade for a minute before turning the handle towards his brother, “If you really want back in, you should probably keep this. You’re probably rusty.”

The younger Winchester took the knife, “Thank you, Dean.”

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said. We might be each others Kryptonite. They might use that against us, ” He let his eyes drift past his brother, “But I also know we are all we have and we keep each other human.”

Sam nodded, “What do we do now?”

“We stop being their fucking puppets,” Dean answered.

“So she was stripping?” Sam asked a while later. Dean had already given him the Spark notes version of his time in the future and now they were catching each other up on what had transpired since they defeated Famine.

Dean nodded, “Yeah. The pole. The strobe lights. These little sparkly stickers on her tits….the whole nine yards.” Sam’s face scrunched up, he hadn’t really ever wanted to imagine River with sparkly nipples and yet there was the mental image. 

“Where is she now?”

“Don’t know. Said she had a case in South Carolina or North Carolina… Definitely one of the Carolinas,” he replied looking across the seat at his brother. “Maybe you could uh…maybe you could try calling her. She won’t answer if she thinks its me.”

Sam laughed and pulled his phone out of his jacket. He scrolled through his contacts until he found River’s spare phone number. It rang in his ear several times before she finally answered. “Who is this?” River yelled into the phone, loud music blaring in the background.

“Hey, Riv. It’s Sam.” Sam heard her curse under her breath and the music ceased.

“Whats up Sam? You Ok?” 

Sam smiled, “Yeah I’m ok. How about you?”

“Yeah sure…” she laughed nervously, “No not really actually.”

“What happened?” Sam put the phone on speaker and Dean unconsciously leaned towards it.

“You with Dean?”

“Yeah I’m here,” Dean answered. 

River sighed, “Well I’m glad the bands back together…you two need to watch your asses… More so than usual.”

“Why?”

“Had a run in with some hunters. Apparently it’s becoming common knowledge we had a hand in breaking the Apocalypse piñata,” River answered. 

“Shit. I didn’t think word would spread that fast,” Sam muttered.

“Are you ok?” Dean asked her. 

“Yeah. I mean, I probably wouldn’t be if I wasn’t such a good shot…” She let out another nervous laugh followed by a sniff. “I didn’t tell them my real name but they figured out who I was pretty quick…I think I killed at least two of them. I killed two hunters, Dean. I’m fucked.”

“What the hell happened Princess?”

“They were gonna…I don’t know kidnap me or something and try and draw you two out. Ambush you or some shit.” Her hand hold the steering wheel was suddenly sweaty and she jostled the phone onto her shoulder so she could wipe her palms on her dirty jeans.

“River, where are you?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know Tennessee or Mississippi? Maybe Arkansas? I’ve been driving all night.”

“Where ever you are pull over. Get a room and we’ll come get you.” Dean told her.

“No. No. No,” she muttered under her breath. She glanced in the rearview mirror half convinced she was being followed. “I’m gonna just keep on truckin’ on my end, Dean. I think this just kind of proves I should stay away until you get a real plan together.”

“God damn it, stop being stubborn. We have a plan. We’re gonna kill the Devil,” Dean answered.

“Are you serious?” she laughed loudly on her end, “You’re fucking serious. How?”

“Well, Cas thinks the Colt might still be in play.”

“The Colt? The fucking gun Bela stole and sold to the highest bidder? The very same gun we waisted four or five months trying to find? It’s gone Dean. It was gone the minute that hell bound bitch handed it over.”

“Riv, just stop driving, get a room and call us back.” Sam said.

“I can’t. I have a thing in Texas I need to get to.”

“What thing, River?” Dean demanded.

“Don’t fucking worry about it. I’ll be in touch.” With that she ended the phone call leaving Sam and Dean to stare at each other in silence.


	43. Chapter 43

Ch 43

River’s promise of keeping in touch didn’t exactly pan out. She hadn’t answered any phone calls from anyone including Bobby and Castiel for almost three weeks. It had been several days since she had responded to one of Dean’s texts and he was worried about her. He’d even considered trying to get Gabriel on the prayer line to track her down. In the end Sam had convinced him she was ok and just laying low somewhere. So Dean and Sam went about their lives, hunting things, saving a few people and waiting for Castiel to find out more information on the supposed surviving Colt or to sniff out God. Both endeavors were going nowhere fast for the Angel and the Hunters.

The Winchesters had no shortage of strange cases to keep themselves occupied. They’d dealt with a pagan goddess that took the form of a popular heiress, the possible Antichrist which was an 11 year old boy that escaped to Australia and a slew of salt and burns just for the hell of it. This particular night found the brothers driving down a rain soaked highway in Indiana. The deluge of rain was Biblical. The Impala wasn’t so much driving down the dark two lane highway as it was floating. “Son of a bitch…I’m gonna pull over before we spin out.” Dean grumbled. He sat with his chest pushed up against the steering wheel his green eyes focused on the pitch black road in front of his car. 

“Wait. I think…yeah I see lights up ahead. Maybe it’s a gas station or something.” Sam told him pointing to a faint glow behind a crop of drowning trees. Dean cursed again and inched his car forwards. ‘The Elysian Fields’ Hotel swam into view as they rounded another flooded curve in the road. Dean parked the Impala as close to the front door as possible which wasn’t easy since almost every parking spot was full in the small lot. The brothers grabbed their duffle bags from the back seat and ran to the front doors. They were completely soaked by the freezing rain in the few seconds it took them to race inside. The front lobby of the posh hotel was brightly lit, a roaring fire in an ornate stone fireplace crackled on corner. A dozen or so patrons milled about the retro mod lobby, some lounging on a huge comfortable looking couch, others sipping hip neon colored drinks at the hotel bar.

“Wow, nice digs for once.” Dean said happily to his brother. Sam nodded as they walked towards the highly glossed check-in desk. A tall, thin man stood in front of a computer, fingers flying across the keyboard as he checked in a couple that was seemingly attached at the lips. 

“Enjoy your stay Mr. and Mrs. Logan. And congratulations on behalf of ‘The Elysian Fields’ staff,” the desk clerk handed a plastic key ring to Mr. Logan, who didn’t bother disengaging from Mrs. Logan as they walked away from the desk and towards the guest rooms down a long hallway. “Next.” The man called jovially to Sam and Dean waving them forwards. “Good evening, gentlemen and welcome to The Elysian Fields. I’m Chet. How may I help you?” He smiled widely and radiated a definite creeper vibe.

“One room, two beds, one-” Dean said handing over a fake credit card. He’d been saving this card for a special occasion. Chet took the card, swiped it through a machine on the desk next to him and handed it back to Dean faster than the hunter could finish his sentence. “…night.” Dean took the card back and shook his head.

“Sir, excuse me but it looks like you nicked yourself shaving,” Chet pulled a tissue from one of his pockets and pointed to a small cut on Dean’s neck.

Dean took the tissue and pressed it along his jaw line, “Thanks.” He muttered looking at the drop of blood that collected on the white tissue paper. “Umm.. is there a coffee shop here?”

Chet gave another wide grin, “Even better! All you can eat buffet, free to all paying guests. Best pie in the tristate area if I do say so myself!” 

Dean broke into an actual smile, “Pie?”

“Yes, sir. Right past the bar. Can’t miss it!” Chet said handing Dean a red key ring. The brothers nodded in thanks and headed towards the food. ‘All you can eat buffet’ brought to mind metal trays of stale, dried macaroni and cheese or anonymous lumps of stuff that could barely be considered food. Stuff Sam and Dean had grown up on, filling plate after plate never knowing when they might get to eat again especially if their father had a ‘job’ that would keep him gone for long stretches. So Dean was beyond surprised when they entered a lavish dining room overflowing with platters of gourmet food. Fresh cut prime rib, shrimp, roasted vegetables and an entire table covered in fresh baked pies, cakes and cookies. Dean was almost giddy, balancing two white porcelain plates and picking slice after slice of the different pies. After weeks of greasy burgers and vending machine crap, an actual home cooked meal was as near to heaven as he wanted to get. He choose one last chocolate chip cookie, squeezing it between a slice of banana cream and double mocha fudge pie and headed towards the table Sam had staked out for them. Dean’s eyes were drawn to a beautiful woman sitting alone. Her skin was smooth, flawless and the deep color of sunbaked Saharan sand. She lazily stirred her Cosmo seemingly completely disinterested in everything and everyone around her. “Hi, I’m-“ Dean said pausing at her table. 

“No,” she cut him off. 

Dean shifted his plates of food. “What? No, I just-“

“No,” she repeated not looking up from her drink.

He was a little rusty but come on. “I uh…”

“I said No.” She finally turned her deep tawny eyes towards Dean.

Dean smiled nervously, he knew the difference between persistent and douchebag. “Got it. 10-4.” He walked away with the rest of his pride and sat across from his brother. Sam was checking the settings on his phone. He couldn’t get any reception in the hotel to check his messages or email. “Unpucker, Sammy and eat something before they run our credit card again and realize Mr. I.P Freely doesn’t make $200,000 a year.”

“We should hit the road, Dean.” Sam sighed as his phone beeped insolently. 

Dean shook his head and took a large bite of pie, “In this rain? Come on it’s like-“

“Noah’s arc out there? I know. I mean come on look at this place; Dean when have we ever stayed at a place as lush as this?” Sam asked quietly. “What the hell is this place even doing in the middle of nowhere?”

Dean shoveled another forkful of chocolate pie into his mouth, “I don’t know. I don’t care at the moment. I want some pie, I want some sleep and I want the weather to clear up before we try driving again, ok? I’d rather not wind up as road splatter waiting for Michael or Lucifer to turn us into skin suits. Can we just enjoy our night off?”

Sam nodded, “Yeah. Ok.” They finished their meal in near silence and left the dining room after Dean ate his body weight in baked goods. The brothers followed the metal signs on the walls until they found the wing their assigned room was on. The honeymooning couple Mr. and Mrs. Logan were busy making out in the hallway, their bucket of ice forgotten and overturned on the floor next to their feet. Dean stopped and smirked at the amorous couple, Mrs. Logan pushing her new husband into the door with the force of her affection. “Need you baby,” she murmured into his mouth. Mr. Logan reached behind him and opened the door, the two tumbled into the room slamming the door shut after them. “What are you twelve?” Sam muttered rolling his eyes at his older brother as they entered their own room. 

Dean whistled in appreciation. Two beds covered in lush red bedding lay side by side in the enormous room. A giant flat screened TV was mounted on one bricked wall, high end Warhol-esque paintings lined another, the carpet was soft and thick. All in all definitely not the type of place the Winchesters would ever stay at on a normal night. “Chocolates!” Dean hooted excitedly, snatching up a gold wrapped candy off one of the pillows. He deftly unwrapped the sweet morsel and tucked it into his mouth. “And Casa Erotica 13 on demand? Man we scored on this place!”

Sam sighed and shuffled his feet, “Dean doesn’t this place just seem….way above what it should be? A four star hotel on a no star highway?” He was interrupted with the loud sounds of love making and bed thumping started from next door. The brothers eyes met and they broke into wide grins. The rhythmic thumps increased causing Dean to laugh like a prepubescent man-child. The TV shuddered on the wall from a particularly hearty thrust from the room next door and the brothers watched it wobble on it’s mount. Another thrust and the bricks shifted, dusting the snow white carpet in red dust. The Winchesters spared a glance at the wall before running towards the door. One sturdy shoulder into the door frame and Sam knocked the cheap locking mechanism loose. 

“Everything ok in here?” The brothers found the room abandoned. The bed still a post coital mess, sheets and blankets in disarray, the faint smell of sweat still in the air. “Where the hell did they go?” Sam muttered quickly checking the closet and bathroom. Dean shrugged and investigate the area on and around the bed for any clues as to where the honeymooners went and in what shape. “Nothin’ man.” Sam said turning the lights off in the mirror lined bathroom. In the dim light Dean saw a glint in the high shag carpet, he bent down and retrieved a gold wedding band with a huge princess cut diamond.

“Well there goes our night off,” Dean said. They left the suite and returned to the front desk. 

Chet was busily tapping away at his keyboard and gave them a toothy grin when they ambled up to the front desk, “Yes, gentlemen. How can I help you?”

“The Logans, do you know where they went?” Sam asked.

“The newly weds?” Chet clarified. Sam and Dean gave him a quick nod of their heads. He quickly typed something into the computer, “They checked out. Just now.” He said smiling again. 

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, “Huh. Weird they’d forget something like this.” He held up the diamond wedding band for Chet to see.

“Oh my….I will put that directly into the lost and found,” Chet snatched the ring out of Deans fingers. “Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

“Uh no. We’re good,” Dean told him.

“Super-fantastic.” Chet went back to tapping away at his computer. The brothers stepped away from the desk and shared a concerned look.

“Creepy,” Sam muttered under his breath.

Dean nodded, “Ya think? You follow Norman Bates. I’ll scope the rest of the place out…one night off is that too much to ask?” Dean vented heading back to their room for some equipment. Sam went to the bar to and tried to seem nonchalant while watching Chet’s every move. He was about to give up that Chet would ever leave his station at the front desk when suddenly the uniformed man hurried away from the computer and down a quiet hallway. The long legged hunter followed Chet as closely as he dared. The man’s red uniform disappeared around a corner and Sam picked up his pace. The hallway dead-ended into a vending machine, Sam turned in a circle unsure how Chet managed to slip past him. He let out a frustrated breath then jumped when he felt a sharp pain on his neck. His fingers came away bloody and he wondered if he’d been bit by something.

Dean started on the top floor of the hotel and worked his way up and down the long hallways, EMF detector held out in front of him. So far he was getting no abnormal readings. He focused on the green lights of his EMF detector as he made his way past several closed doors. His peripheral vision caught a glimpse of an enormous, long trunked, white tusked elephant…elephant? “What the hell?” Dean thought to himself, he turned towards the open door and saw a short, pudgy Black man wrapping a towel around his waist. “Hey man! This ain’t a peep show!” the man yelled slamming the door shut in Dean’s face. The hunter shook his head trying to clear his thoughts, obviously he had been mistaken about Dumbo right? Sensing that what ever might be going on at the hotel wasn’t going to show up on EMF he headed back to the main lobby. The elevator door ‘dinged’ open and Dean walked into the empty lobby just as Sam walked out from a dim hallway. “Where is everyone?” Sam asked noticing the empty bar and forgotten cocktails. He walked towards the front doors to check the parking lot but of course the doors were locked. 

“Lemme guess: locked.” Dean said. “So this like is the roach motel. We check in but don’t check out?”

Sam shook his shaggy hair in annoyance, “I knew it….Think about how we got here, Dean. The detour on I-90. The hurricane?”

“You think we were led here?” Dean asked, thinking every damn time they think they get a break it turns out to be some god damned trap.

“Rats in a maze, Dean.”

“Shit…there’s gotta be an emergency exit or something.” The elder Winchester cursed heading back towards the dining area. He had seen waiters coming and going through a set of double doors in the back and hoped there would be an employee exit of some sort that was forgotten by whom ever had trapped them. Dean knew it was wishful thinking that they could escape unscathed through a back exit but he had to try something instead of standing idly by, waiting for whatever bad thing had led him and his brother to The Elysian Fields. The kitchen was also empty of any other patrons or employees, the sink brimming with unwashed dishes and a huge pot of bubbling red stew was on the lit stove. “Please be tomato soup,” Dean prayed. He grabbed a soup ladle that lay on the stainless steel counter and fished around the murky concoction. It was definitely not tomato soup. Boiled human eyeballs and a finger floated to the top. Dean dropped the ladle with a disgusted grunt. “Motel Hell. We’re in Motel Hell. Great.”

“Yeah, well next time I want to get back in the car and keep driving. Lets get back in the car and keep driving!” Sam harped at this older brother.

“One night. All I want is one night off. Eat something that doesn’t come out of a vending machine, watch some porn, get a solid five hours of sleep. It’s not too much to ask!” Dean yelled back. Their bickering was cut short by frantic pounds coming from the deep freezer in the back of the kitchen.

Sam reached the door first and pulled at the latch, a thick padlock had been secured through the ring at the top of the door. Frightened cries echoed from within the freezer. “Hey! Hey in there its ok, we’ll get you out!” he yelled pulling out the leather pouch that held his lock pick kit.

“Hurry up, Sammy.” Dean grumbled.

“Shut up, Dean. I am hurrying-“ Sam spared an annoyed look over his shoulder and froze. Two large men were standing behind his oblivious brother.

Dean saw the startled look that crossed Sam’s face, the hunters muscles tightening in anticipation of an attack. “There’s someone standing behind me isn’t there?” He sighed. Sam gave him a quick nod. The brothers fought and quickly lost against the two men and were unceremoniously hauled back into the dining room. The various tables and chairs had been replaced by one large, ornate meeting table in the center of the room. Nearly twenty people of various sex, age, and race sat patiently around the table. Chet, who had removed his previous name badge and was wearing a sticker with “Hello My Name is- Mercury”, was buzzing between people handing out similar stickers. The brothers eyes roamed over the name badges they could see. The man Dean had startled upstairs was now fully dressed and wearing a sticker that read “Ganesh”. The exotically beautiful woman that had shot down Dean’s half-hearted attempts at flirtation was now identified as “Kali. An older, noble looking gentlemen with fair skin and stark white hair was identified as “Odin”. Mercury finished handing out stickers and rushed out of the room. “What the…Odin? Kali? Baron Samedi? River….River was gonna summon that guy…what the shit Sam?” Dean muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “Is this like a kinky role play thing?” 

Sam shot his brother a bitch face, “A kinky role play thing, Dean?”

Mercury swooped back into the room, pushing a metal dining cart in front of him, “Ladies and Gentlemen! Dinner is served!” He removed the silver domed cover and bowed graciously to the applause that broke out. A mans severed head lay in a mixed pile of various organs and body parts. Several people moved towards the macabre meal and piled pieces of human flesh onto their dinner plates. 

A tall, dark haired man called attention to the crowd by clinking a fork on his flute of champagne, “Before we indulge in tonight’s most delicious meal may I request we call the meeting to order now that our very distinguished guests have arrived.” A spotlight turned on from somewhere in the high ceiling and shone directly onto the Winchesters. A thin sheen of sweat broke out on Dean’s forehead as he and his brother were forced down into two plush chairs at the head of the long table. “Now in all my centuries I never would have imagined seeing this many gods under one roof,” the man, Baldur according to his name tag, smiled and dipped his head respectfully to the men and women gathered around the table. 

Sam’s eyes widened and he looked to brother mouthing, “Gods?!” Dean shrugged helplessly and looked back at the people holding them hostage. He was quickly racking his brain for every morsel of information he had collected on some of the more well known deities, namely how to kill them.

“Before we get down to brass tacks, lets discuss ground rules: No slaughtering each other. This Hotel is our sanctuary, we are allies while on these grounds. Also, keep your hands off the local virgins. We are trying to keep a low profile.” Baldur gave another slick smile. “Now as you all now the Judeo-Christian Apocalypse looms over us. Angels and Demons have been battling all over the planet for months. We have already had casualties of our own, Hebat, Elta, Leshii…Struck down for attempting to protect their homeland, their way of life.” Baldur dipped his head in apparent sorrow. Sam and Dean shared a worried look remembering they were in fact the ones that killed the Pagan Goddess Leshii. “What their deaths should show us is that individually we are not strong enough to fight alone. We must put our petty differences aside and join in camaraderie, stand as one against the Archangels and their warriors.” He gave the gods and goddesses sitting around the table a stern look before letting his round brandy colored eyes settle on the Winchesters. “We have with us tonight two very valuable bargaining chips,” he waived a pale hand towards them, “May I introduce Lucifer and Michael’s vessels. So the question is what do we do now? Please, friends, speak up if you have any ideas. This is a safe place.”

Several gods started speaking, some not in English but apparently understood by all. One man yelled loudly in Mandarin, slamming his fist on the table to emphasize each word. “I don’t like his tone,” Dean muttered nervously to his brother.

“Why waste our time killing them? The Angels will just bring them back. And draw unnecessary attention to all of us,” Baron Samedi’s voice wheezed out across the table. 

The older, white haired man, Odin, laughed jovially. “Why are you all so concerned? These feathered veslingrs are having a silly little slap fight. We all know the world isn’t going to end until the great serpent Jormungandr rises up and I myself am eaten by the giant wolf.” More arguing broke out after Odin’s assertions.

“What makes your belief system so much better than mine?” Wala, an aboriginal goddess yelled across the room at the Viking. Odin muttered something in Norse and Wala threw her wine glass at him. Chairs were pushed back as gods and goddesses stood up forgetting Baldur’s plea for peace. The brothers took this opportunity to try and sneak away from the brewing skirmish. They made it a half step away from their chairs before a giant, crystalline chandelier fell at their feet. The bickering at the table behind them stopped.

“Stay,” a quiet, firm voice told them. The brothers turned back around and saw Kali standing with her tanned arms crossed over her red silk blouse. “We have to fight. The only thing the Archangels understand is violence. This ends in blood. Ours or theirs. There is no other way.”

“Mistress, we haven’t even tried talking to them. Maybe we could reason with the Angels, find common ground.” Mercury spoke up. Kali turned her obsidian eyes towards him, whatever power she wielded caused the messenger god to cough and splutter up blood. Several of the other deities straightened up nervously in their seats. 

The dining room doors flew open, the bright stage light swung towards it and from some unseen sound system an upbeat drum roll sounded. Kali released her grip on Mercury and the god slumped back in his chair. “Can’t we all just get along?” Gabriel’s disembodied voice sung down the empty corridor. The Archangel entered a moment later, his golden hair and whiskey colored eyes glinting in the spotlight.

“Ga-“ Sam started incredulously. Gabriel waived a hand and Sam’s voice was choked off. Dean tried speaking but found his voice had mysteriously disappeared as well. 

The Archangel strode up to the brothers, clasping them around the shoulders hard enough to make the taller men stumble back, “You two! It’s always wrong place, worse time.”

Baldur’s tight voice called out, “Loki what in Valhalla are doing here?” Gabriel smiled and winked at the Winchesters as he pushed past them.

“Baldur, hey there buddy. I heard about this shindig from a friend of a friend and I figured my invite must been lost in the inter-pantheon mail.” 

“What do you want Trickster?” Kali growled frustrated at his antics.

Gabriel turned his attention to the goddess, “I’m here to talk about the elephant in the room.” Ganesh let out a disgruntled, “Hey!”. “Not you…” he pointed at the elephant headed god without taking his eyes off Kali. “The Apocalypse geniuses. We can’t stop it….but first things first. The adults need to have a conversation.” The trickster Angel snapped his fingers and suddenly Dean and Sam found themselves back in their hotel room.

“Holy shit! Holy shit, dude. We are so dead,” Dean yelled at his brother.

“We are not dead. Not yet anyways. What’s our next move?” Sam asked pacing the room.

Dean shrugged, “I don’t know…save those poor jerks in the freezer. Maybe gank a few of those mooks out there before they eat our faces, if we’re lucky.”

“Since when are you two hamburglars ever lucky?” Gabriel chided appearing on the loveseat in front of the fireplace. 

“Oh you know what bite me Gabriel!” Dean huffed annoyed.

Gabriel laughed, “Maybe later big boy.”

“We should’ve known, this hand your stink all over it,” Dean muttered.

“You think I set this up? Ha! I’m Leia to your Han. I’m here to save your Nerf herding asses,” Gabriel said standing.

“You’re gonna save us? You threw us in TV hell and told us to play our roles and now you want to get us the hell out of here?” Dean asked.

“Look, Lucifer will slaughter them. All of them, Baldur, Odin, Kali-he will turn them into finger paint. Armageddon is going to happen boys, its just not gonna happen tonight. You two are getting the hell outta here before those desperate idiots ring the dinner bell.” he said.

“Fine but we’re taking the people popsicles they got stashed in the deep freeze with us,” Sam said.

Gabriel clicked his tongue, “Yeah…no I don’t think so Pixie Stick. It’s gonna be hard enough getting you two adult diapers out of here.” 

“Wait…they called you Loki. They don’t even know who you really are. Maybe we just go out there and tell them they got an Archangel hiding in a Norse-god meat suit.” Dean said smiling.

“I’ll take your voices. You can’t say my name if I don’t let you. Just ask River, she couldn’t get the first syllable out.”

“Then we’ll write it down,” Dean told him.

“Then I’ll cut your hands off.”

Deans smile broadened, “Well don’t you think that would raise a few eyebrows? Those goons out there might start wondering why we’re walking around mute and missing our hands.”

“Damn it, fine. Fine! Always got make it so damn difficult….” Gabriel muttered patting his jacket pockets, “Shit pickles….where’d I leave that thing….”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Lose something?”

“No, I didn’t lose it I just forgot…Where the piss is it…oh! Be right back,” Gabriel snapped his fingers and disappeared.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered.

Gabriel returned a moment later with a very pissed of red head in tow. River was switching between yelling in English and Enochian while pelting Gabriel with popcorn from a huge bucket she had tucked against one hip. “YOU CAN NOT JUST KIDNAP ME ANYMORE YOU VGEG DAZIS!”

Gabriel laughed and deflected her popcorn missiles, “Stupid head? That’s the best you can come up with?”

“Screw you, Gabe. You can not just pop in unannounced. I was on a fucking date!” River shouted turning away from the Angel. She was wearing retro red and blue 3-D glasses and wearing a tank top that read “My Patronus is Godzilla”. The arm that was cradling the enormous bucket of popcorn was wrapped in a bright pink cast. Her mouth snapped shut when she laid eyes on the Winchesters, her face and chest instantly turning the same color as the fiberglass on her arm. She pulled the glasses off and tucked them in a pocket of her jeans. “What the shit is this? First you have Cas grab me and now you send Gabriel after me?”

“What? I did not-“ Dean started defensively, “You were on a date?” River sighed, rolled her eyes and handed the bucket of popcorn to Sam. Sam shot his brother a look, his eyebrows hiding under his long mane of hair and a sarcastic smile tugging the corners of his lips.

“I need my bug out bag, Lemon Drop.” Gabriel said pointing at the brown messenger bag River had slung across her shoulder. 

“Yeah, well I need a drink,” she countered handing the bag over. “Shit…wait my phone,” she muttered digging through the bag until she found her ringing phone. Gabriel took the bag and handed over a clear glass bottle with bright blue label. “Zima? Are you shitting me right now?” she took a swig of the clear malt beverage, grimaced at the overly sweet tangy flavor and handed the bottle back to Gabriel. The Archangel shrugged his shoulders and finished the drink while River answered her phone. “ No, Ed…Ed I’m fine. I’m good…I told you sometimes I might just disappear. I don’t need you to ‘storm the castle’ or anything…It’s from ‘The Princess Bride’. You’ve never seen ‘The Princess Bride’? You know there’s other movies out there that don’t star Kevin Costner….I’m the one that wanted to drive all the way to Austin for the movie fest. I am not ditching you….” she remained silent for a few minutes, nodding her head and listening to the man on the other line. Dean’s green eyes were boring into the back of her head and she finally turned to face him. “What?” she mouthed. Her blue eyes narrowed, her lips disappearing into a thin line, she was apparently not happy with whatever she had just heard. “Ed, I have no idea what ‘friend-zoning’ means. Maybe you could explain it to me like I’m a five year old that rides the short bus.” She put her casted hand on her hip and Dean instantly felt sorry for who ever she was talking to on the other line.

Even Gabriel whispered, “Uh oh.”

“So give me just a minute here, Ed. It’s been a while since I’ve had to translate neckbeard. It sounds like your trying to say because we’ve been on three dates I somehow owe you an all access pass to my pussy or at the very least a blowjob?…Wow. And you know what? I was wearing cute underwear tonight just in case but now you can consider my vagina a no fly zone….jabroni.” She slammed the flip phone shut and jammed it back into her pocket.

“You’re welcome, “ Gabriel told her. 

“Shut up,” River muttered angrily. “I was seriously considering getting naked with him, Gabe. I bought special underwear. What the fuck is wrong is me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you, Lollipop,” Gabriel muttered distractedly. He was chugging the bottle of Tab he had stashed in the bag and was tucking a few Magnum condoms into his back pocket.

“Who the hell was that?” Sam asked trying not laugh. 

River ran her fingers down her pale face and let out a loud sigh, “Ed Zeddmore.”

Sam lost the battle with his laughter and doubled over. “Shut up, Sam.” River grumbled, the embarrassed pink tinge returning to her cheeks.

“Ed…Zeddmore? The cheesehead Ghostfacer guy? You’ve been dating that loser?” Dean demanded.

“I have not been ‘dating’ him. We went out on a couple dates thats all,” River replied.

“Thats the thing you had in Texas? Ed? When do you have time for dating between hunting and pole dancing?” Dean snarked.

River’s eyebrows pulled together and she narrowed her blue eyes at Dean, “I’ve been mostly doing lap dances actually. They pay better and it’s kind of hard to hold on to the pole with only one hand.” She waived her bright pink arm at him sassing him right back. Dean grunted and insolently tucked his hands into his jacket pockets. “What the hell is going on around here? Why are we here? And where is here exactly?” she finally said turning back to Gabriel.

“We are at a hotel in the middle of a cornfield in Indiana. You’re here because I needed my stuff. They’re here because…some acquaintances of mine thought it would be a good idea to use them as a carrot for my brothers,” Gabriel told her.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“There’s about two dozen gods and goddesses out there that are planning on summoning Lucifer and Michael here and handing us over,” Sam answered.

River sucked in a quick breath, “Lucifer? And Michael? Here? Then why the hell are we still here, Gabe.”

“Because I can’t get them out. Not yet. Kali trapped them with a blood spell.”

“Kali? Kali the destroyer, four arms, belt made out of decapitated human heads? Your ex-girlfriend Kali? That Kali?” River clarified. Gabriel nodded. “Great, this night keeps getting better and better. How are we gonna get their blood back?”

“Leave that up to me kids. Gonna turn on the ol’ Trickster Charm…You know pink is really not your color sugar cookie,” Gabriel said. He touched her forehead and the cast crumbled off her arm. River rotated her wrist now free from the confines of the itchy cast and the Archangel disappeared. 

Dean’s jaw tightened and River saw a muscle twitch in his neck. “You got something to say, Winchester?”

Dean sighed, swallowing back another snarky comment. “What happened to your arm?”

River shrugged her shoulders and sat on the vacated loveseat, “I fell out a window.”

“You fell out a window?” Dean repeated sitting next to her. Sam ate a handful of popcorn then checked the contents of Gabriels bag. All that was left was the two pound bag of peanut M&M’s, a few spare condoms and an action figure. 

“I was thrown out a window by a pissed of Chindi,” she sighed. “Ed and Harry had a case. I needed a break from…everything. They were fucking around with their camera settings and the ghosty got the jump on me. It was a second story window and at least my fall was broken by the hood of my car.” She gave Dean a half smile, he didn’t smile back. “It was lights out for a couple of days at the hospital, when I came to I had the Pretty in Pink cast from neon hell and a major fucking headache. I checked myself out of the hospital and had to go back and finish the Chindi because Ed and Harry ran away when the bitch threw me out the window.” She picked at piece of lint on her Godzilla shirt. “Then I got this really bad pain in my stomach and had to go back to the hospital. I apparently had appendicitis,” she lifted her shirt and showed Dean the healing incision on her lower stomach, “ and had to go into emergency surgery. So there was another week gone. And then I got released from the hospital again and I was under explicit instructions of no heavy lifting, running, ‘working’ for at least six weeks. Ed let me crash at his place while I recuperated.”

“Shit, why didn’t you call me? Or at least have one of those assclowns call me? I’ve been worried sick,” Dean muttered.

River shrugged her shoulders again. “I don’t know. I just…You’re kind of sending me mixed signals here Winchester. You tell me to lose your number. You don’t want to hear my side…Then I can’t seem to shake you. Every time I think I got my shit together there you are,” she murmured. 

Dean let out a long breath and sat back in the loveseat, “Yeah, well I’m an asshole.”

She smiled, “Yeah you kind of are.” They lapsed into an awkward silence waiting for Gabriel to return.

“So three dates huh?” Dean finally said.

River smiled shyly, “It started off he just wanted to make up for letting me get thrown out a window. I felt bad for him. I know what it’s like to be a fuck up. We went out to dinner and then a Street Fighter tournament. I got second place. I made him take me to a Kaiju film festival in Austin tonight.”

“Ah man, I love Kaiju movies,” Dean moaned. Sam smiled at his brother, Dean was never one to miss a Godzilla marathon.

“We were in the middle of ‘Frankenstein Conquers the World’ when Gabe snatched me.”

“That’s a good one!” 

“Yeah it is. They played ‘Ultraman’ first.”

“Oh no way! Thats my favorite: Ultraman Ultraman Here he comes from the sky, Ultraman Ultraman watch our hero fly,” Dean broke out singing the Ultraman theme song. 

River laughed and chewed her bottom lip, she reached across the table and picked up Gabriel’s discarded bag, “I got you this. It’s dumb…I didn’t even know when I’d see you again.” She pulled out the silver and red suited action figure. “It’s fully articulated.”

Dean’s green eyes grew huge, “Man, I always wanted this! Sammy look at this. Remember when I asked Dad to get me this….he said no of course. Had to buy ammo or something.” River nervously chewed her thumb nail and watched as Dean posed the action figure and made robot noises. 

“So…you and Ed…you two have a lot in common? Besides you know the ghost hunting?” Sam asked, playing the expert wingman.

“No. Actually. Weird right? To have nothing in common with a half normal jerk off.” River laughed and shook her head, “His favorite movie is ‘Tin Cup’. His favorite band is ‘Nickelback' (Dean audibly groaned) and the only thing he reads are blog posts written by Harry.” Screams echoed from the outside the room and the hunters shot up. “Screw this. Those people need help,” River said yanking the door open.


	44. Chapter 44

Ch 44

She ran down the deserted hallway towards the front lobby, Dean grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back before she ran into the the gang of gods feasting on a helpless hotel guest. ”It’s too late,” he murmured in her ear as Baron Samedi and Zao Shen took bites out of the still screaming mans throat. River squeezed her eyes shut and turned towards Dean’s flannel clad chest.

“Where are they keeping the rest of the snacks?”

“In the freezer,” Sam answered. They had to wait quietly while the gods finished their bloody meal before they could try and sneak back into the kitchen. The gods ate quickly, leaving nothing behind but their victims gold tooth fillings and a pacemaker laying on the gore covered check-in desk.

“I wanna hear what happened to you,” Dean quietly told her as they ninjaed their way back to the kitchen.

“What?” she hissed annoyed, “Right now? You want to talk like grown ups right now?” she pointed at the freezer. “I think we got bigger issues than our personal bullshit.”

“We got about two minutes to kill while Sammy picks that lock. Give me the condensed version,” Dean retorted.

“Son of-,” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, “I pissed Gabriel off. Before you came back I begged him everyday to help me bust you out of Hell, when he refused I left. I went back to Bobby…I tried a crossroads demon. I summoned Hel. That made Gabe a little miffed at me. I spent a couple weeks fighting Slestaks and dodging dinosaurs for that one. Then he dumped me up near Anchorage. That was a real bitch to get home from there. Didn’t see him for months after that. You came home and then all the shit with the seals.” She took a deep breath and checked Sam’s progress on the lock. “I begged him again to help us. He wouldn’t pick a side. He won’t fight against his brothers. The final night, after Zachariah had you hidden away I spent hours harassing him, prodding him, begging him to help me. To help us. I bruised his ego, I overstepped my bounds as a lowly human. Just because we’re friends…he’s a god damned Archangel. He is older than the stars. There is no way I can get him to do anything he doesn’t want to do….I never knew about you and Sam being vessels. I didn’t know about Lilith being the last seal. I couldn’t tell you what Gabriel really was. He told me if the Angels ever found out they would kill all of us. I was terrified of someone finding out, Chuck or Castiel… and…I wanted to tell you. I didn’t choose him over you. Not ever….ah fuck more bad guys.” Baron Samedi and Zao Shen had returned to the kitchen apparently to grab another midnight snack. River and Dean ran forward trying to keep the gods away from Sam who was cursing at the lock. Sam gave up on the lock which apparently had some sort of magical properties making his lock pick useless and joined his brother and River in the melee. Dean was thrown into a metal rack full of pots and pans. River swung a cast iron frying pan at Zao Shen’s head and quickly found herself flying towards Dean. 

Dean had barely gotten to his feet when River slammed into him and they toppled painfully back onto the broken metal shelves. “Fuck me, Winchester…I’m going after your blood before these assholes kill us. Keep ‘em distracted.” She scrambled off Dean and ran out of the kitchen before he could argue. Dean cursed under his breath as she disappeared out of the swinging doors. Sam grunted behind him as Baron Samedi bent his arm painfully behind his back. Dean was yanked up by Zao Shen a moment later and the brothers were marched out of the kitchen. The screams of the terrified men and women still trapped in the freezer echoed behind them. The brothers were slammed back into their plush chairs next to Gabriel and River who were bickering. “What happened to the Ol’ Trickster charm! We’re getting our asses handed to us in there!” River yelled at the Archangel.

“Lollipop, this is not really the time,” Gabriel muttered.

“When is it gonna be time, Jellybean? When I get my face eaten off by your ex-girlfriend?” River huffed glaring at Kali. 

Dean couldn’t help but smirk at River’s anger, “I thought you were going after our blood.”

“Yeah well Mercury’s a fast, sneaky bastard,” she muttered back staring daggers at the twitchy god sitting across the room.

“Enough!” Kali commanded. River let out a long angry breath through her nose. Kali looked at the gods that had reconvened in the make-shift meeting room. “It seems as though the Trickster has tricked us.” Kali said quietly leaning down to stare into Gabriel’s deep mahogany eyes.

Gabriel leaned towards her, “Kali don’t do this. Please.”

“You’re mine now,” she said sitting in his lap, draping one dark arm around his shoulders as the other slowly snaked into his jacket, “You have something I want.” She removed her arm from the folds of Gabriels jacket and grasping his silver Angel blade. River’s jaw clenched and she held her breath watching as Kali’s eyes traveled over the razor sharp blade. “An Archangel Blade,” Kali murmured showing the blade to Baldur and the other gods. “Belonging to the Archangel Gabriel.”

Gabriel shook his head, “Okay! Okay you got me! I got wings! It doesn’t make me any less right about Lucifer or Michael. You summon them here and they will destroy you.”

Kali pursed her lips, “He’s lying.”

“I’m not. I swear to you Kali. I am trying to save you!” 

“You’re a spy,” Baldur spat.

“I’m not a spy. I’m a runaway, a deserter. I’m just as dead as you are if they find me.” Gabriel beseeched. “I know my brother and Lucifer should terrify you. I’ve skipped ahead, I see how this story ends-“

“Your story Archangel, not ours,” Kali whispered. Her upper lip trembled. She ran a hand lovingly down Gabriels face before plunging the Angel blade into his heart. Gabriels face twisted in pain and he had a fraction of a second to meet Kali’s dark eyes before the blinding white light of his grace exploded through his eyes and mouth. 

Rivers face blanched and she screamed for her friend trying to dive out of her chair towards the goddess. Dean’s hand circled around her arm like a vice and trapped her in her seat. “Let me go! Let me go! You bitch! You are dead!” River thrashed against Deans hand. He tightened his grip and shook his head quickly. River took a deep hitching breath and stopped struggling, “She killed him.”

“WE can kill Lucifer,” Kali said quietly. The other gods looked at Gabriels dead body with a mix of fear and awe.

Dean clapped his hands together causing both River and Sam to jump in their seats. “All right you murdering screw heads!”

“Are you crazy!” Sam hissed reaching for his brothers jacket.

“I’m out of options,” Dean hissed back standing and walking towards Gabriels body where he lay slumped down in his chair, “Any other day the three of us would commence with ganking your archaic asses but today….well today we’re gonna help you ice the Devil.”

“What?” River and Sam breathed out surprised. 

The green eyed hunter nodded his head, “Yeah, we’ll help you. The Devil ain’t in the yellow pages. But me and Sam we can get ‘im here faster than a rocket full of monkeys.”

“How?” Kali asked intrigued by the human.

Dean smiled widely, “We’ll talk after you let those lean cuisines in the freezer go.”

Kali nodded in consent. “Princess, you and the Viking go get the Happy Meals. I’ll get the front door,” Dean called still smiling cockily. River stood on shaky legs, wiping tears off her face.

Odin followed her into the kitchen, running a hand over his beard thoughtfully, “The Angel has been masquerading as mine own son for two thousand years. How does a father not realize such a thing?”

River shook her head and ran the back of her hand over her face, “Gabriel was good at what he did, All-Father.”

Odin smiled, “You remind me of my dear wife Freya. She has quite the temper; like a Valkyrie caught in a hurricane. But once you have her love you have it forever.”

River smiled sadly, “Can you get the lock, Biflindi?” She used the old Norse name Gabriel had taught her. Odin grasped the lock in one huge hand and tore it off the wall. The heavy freezer door swung open and the people inside screamed in terror. “Come on! You need to get the hell out of here!” River waived the survivors out and herded them towards the front doors where Dean was waiting. The men and women didn’t need to be told twice as they ran for their waiting cars. River turned to go back inside the Hotel when Dean grabbed her wrist and pulled her back towards him. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be ok,” He told her. River shook her head, her wavy red hair falling in her face. “I’m sorry about Gabriel.” More tears welled up in her eyes and rolled slowly down her pale face. Dean ran one callused thumb across her cheek, wiping away the tears before caressing the curve of her neck. “I’m sorry.” He repeated brushing his lips across her opposite cheek and ear. 

River tangled her hands in his flannel shirt. “I don’t want to keep doing this, Dean.” She said leaning into him.

“Psst! Pssst!,” a surreptitious whisper interrupted the pair. River let go of Deans shirt and turned towards the rain wet Impala. A blonde, whiskey eyed Archangel was frantically waiving at them. 

“Son of a-“ River muttered stepping away from Dean.

“Get in the car! But act natural!” Gabriel stage whispered. Dean slid in the front seat and River slid in the backseat next to the Angel.

She immediately started slapping him, “You asshole! I thought you were dead!” She slapped him once more on the arm, “Kali stabbed you with the Angel blade. How are you alive?” 

“Love you too, Sugar Cookie.” Gabriel told her. “That wasn’t my real Angel blade. That thing could kill me! I made the dupe out of that can of Tab I’ve been making you carry around.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “So, can one of you two crazy kids get in there and get our blood? I heard you in there. Kali likes you Dean, you can get close. You get the RBCs and we get the hell outta here. You two can finish making up.”

River rolled her eyes and met Dean’s angry ones. “No, how about you give us the real Angel blade or better yet sack up and help us take down Lucifer?” he told the Archangel.

“What? You can’t be serious?” Gabriel said sitting forward and glancing incredulously between the hunters.

“I am deadly serious,” Dean countered.

Gabriel shook his head, his blonde hair falling over his eyes, “You’re gonna side with a bunch of monsters? That’s all they are to you, right?”

“There more than that to you though, aren’t they? Those murdering douchebags are your family, Gabriel. And even though they just stabbed you in the heart you aren’t gonna let them die.”

“Those lemmings in there want to run off this cliff I’m not going with them and you don’t have to either.” Gabriel said stubbornly.

“Your brother is gonna come here, slaughter all of us, make Sam into a meat puppet and then burn the world, Gabriel. We need your help,” River said quietly.

“I can’t kill my brother, Lemon Drop.”

“Can’t or won’t,” Dean asked him. The Archangel looked away, his whiskey colored eyes shining in the dim moon light. “That’s what I thought.” Dean said harshly climbing out of the Impala. River sighed in defeat and followed Dean out of the car. 

“Sugar Cookie, can you at least get my bag?” Gabriel said grabbing her arm before she shut the door to the car. She nodded with out turning around and met Dean in the hotel lobby. 

Mercury was back at his post at the front desk, his features drawn and worried. Odin and Baron Samedi were sitting at the bar drinking and talking quietly. “I’m gonna go get my bag. You should go warn Kali before they do anything stupid…stupider.” River murmured. 

Dean nodded, “Be careful. I think we spoiled their dinner.” He looked at the gods sitting on the tall barstools. River gave his hand a quick squeeze and headed back down the long hallway towards their room. Dean walked into the dining room where Kali, Baldur and Sam were discussing how to summon Lucifer. “Shows over folks,” he said loudly. 

Kali turned her dark eyes towards the hunter, “Excuse me?”

“Swords a fake. Gabriel’s still alive. We don’t have anything to fight Lucifer with so if you’d be a pal and give us our blood back?” Kali’s dark features paled and she glanced worriedly at Baldur. 

River entered the Winchesters room and grabbed Gabriels bag off the coffee table where she had left it. She then sat wearily down on the loveseat. Her emotions conflicted. She missed Dean but didn’t want to spend what little time they might have left, if they didn’t find a way to stop Lucifer and Michael, vacillating between arguing and screwing. Neither one of them were in a position to dream about happy endings and the more energy they wasted being mad at or avoiding each other was energy not spent trying to stop the Apocalypse. Sounds of a struggle emanated from the hallway and derailed her train of thought. She cautiously crept back down the hallway towards the main lobby, the grunting and painful wheezing sounds growing louder. She turned the corner in time to see Baron Samedi and Ganesh disappear in a cloud of dark red blood. Odin was standing toe to toe with a young blonde man, his face the grayish color of dead flesh, open weeping sores scattered across the brow and down one side of his face. Odin held his shield and swung a huge sword at the figure. The man flicked his arm and Odin flew across the room, landing at Rivers feet. “Run fagr dóttir!” the Viking grunted as he pulled himself to his feet. He turned to face the pale man, “Fight me Angel!” The man smiled and snapped his fingers. Odin exploded in a spray of blood and tissue splattering River’s face and clothes.

Being a hunter she had been afraid before, afraid that some monster was going to rip her to shreds, afraid of losing the ones she loved but true primal fear was a completely new and unwelcome sensation. It rooted her to the floor as she stood in the presence of the Devil himself. She felt warm tears fall from her eyes, her chest burned as she fought to take a shuddering breath. Lucifer’s magnificent crimson wings stretched out behind him. His grace, the color of blood drenched rubies, emanated from the decaying skin of his vessel and sent chills up her spine. He radiated more power and malice than she had ever wanted to be subject to. Mercury stood up from behind the lobby desk, “My lord…I did not want this. I don’t want anyone else to die. Please.”

“What you want, Pagan, is none of my concern.” With another snap of his fingers he destroyed the messenger god. Lucifer’s wings rippled then snapped close to his body. He rolled his head on his neck smiling at the popping sounds. “Well then…Why hello there, mortal.” The Morningstar strode towards her, stepping in the puddle of gore that used to be the One-Eyed Wanderer. “Where did you get this?” he asked quietly. His cold fingers brushing along the lollipop charm on River’s neck. She managed a quick shake of her head; a defiant ‘no’ in the face of Satan. He sneered before violently wrapping one freezing hand around her throat, his fingers burning painfully into her skin. “Let’s go finish this shall we?” Lucifer turned and walked towards the adjacent hallway that led to the dining room; dragging River by the throat the entire way, Gabriels bag slipping off her shoulder as she fought uselessly against the Archangels grip on her throat. Her boots dragging through the bloody pools that used to be gods, leaving a trail of red on the once pristine stone tiles. Her throat burned as she tried to pull in desperate mouthfuls of air. Every time she tried to draw in a breath Lucifers grip tightened like a snake suffocating its prey. They reached the closed door to the dining room and Lucifer waived it open with a disinterested flick of his wrist. 

“It’s him,” Sam croaked. Lucifer released his grip on her throat and River fell to the floor sucking in a choked breath. 

“How?” Dean demanded.

“Mercury tried playing both sides. Pagans…worse than humans when it comes to screwing each other over,” Lucifer laughed, “Sam its so nice to see you again. And Dean, I thought you’d be taller,” he smiled silkily. River scrambled away from him still gasping for air as Baldur stepped forward. 

“Baldur, don’t!” Kali warned. 

The God of the Summer sun held up one hand to silence her. “Lucifer. You think you own this planet? What gives you the right!” he yelled charging towards the Archangel. Lucifer smiled again as he shoved his pale hand through Baldur’s chest. The god spat up a mouthful of blood onto Lucifer’s pale face. 

“No one gives us the right,” he said turning his cold eyes to Baldur. “We take it.” The god gasped like a fish out water, blood dripping out of his quivering lips and out of the gaping hole where his rib cage used to be. Lucifer pulled his arm out of Baldur’s chest with a sickening ‘squelch’ and dropped his body. Kali screamed something in Hindi before she erupted into flames. The flames surrounded her, were part of her, they burned high and blisteringly hot as she stepped towards Lucifer. Sam and Dean dove behind the former dessert table and almost landed on River and Gabriel. 

“What are we gonna do, Gabe?” River demanded hoarsely her throat covered in dark purple and blue welts from Lucifer’s hand.

Gabriel had the corner of his huge bag of peanut M&M’s in his mouth and was trying to rip it open with his teeth. “Mmm-workin’ on it, Tootsie Pop,” he grunted finally tearing into the bag, brightly colored candy flying everywhere.

“I hope you got a plan ‘cause your ex sounds likes she gettin her ass handed to her,” Dean quipped as a loud crash shook the room followed by another of Kali’s angry screams. 

Gabriel dug around in the bag of candy, his arm disappearing up to his shoulder, “Son of-where the hell is it….” He pulled his arm out after a moment of searching and held a DVD case, “Guard this with your life, Charleston Chew.” He pushed the DVD into Sam’s bewildered face. 

The hunter took a glance at the cover and rolled his eyes angrily before tucking “Casa Erotica 13” into his jacket. “You have got to be kidding me.” Sam grumbled. 

Gabriels arm once again disappeared into the bag of candy. “Gabriel you need to get them the fuck out of here post-haste. Quit dicking around.” River hissed at him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Being a big damn hero, Sugar Cookie,” He said triumphantly finally pulling his true Angel Blade from the bottom of the bag of M&M’s. He pulled River into a tight hug and kissed her cheek, “You really were my favorite, Lemon Drop.” 

“Jellybean, don’t you-“ Gabriel snapped his fingers and River disappeared. 

“Where did you send her!” Dean yelled. 

“Far away from here, Pop Rocks. Kali has your blood. You get her out of here!” Gabriel told him. He took a deep breath and gave the brothers a half hearted smiled, “Better late than never. Cover your ears.” The Archangel stood up and yelled in his true voice, “LUCIFER!”

Satan stopped his assault on Kali, who was on her knees her fire dimming and her face bloodied, and looked at his baby brother with wide eyes. “Gabriel, I knew it was you. I could sense your grace on that human.” 

River found her self in a dark parking lot outside a large factory. She screamed in rage and fear into the cold, dark sky. “Gabriel, you son of a bitch!” her voice cracked painfully. The tender flesh on her throat still burned from Lucifer’s freezing touch. She screamed until her voice faded into a hoarse whisper. She wondered around the dark lot trying to figure out where the hell Gabriel had sent her. When she found the giant sculpture of a spilled ice cream pint and two cows she fell to her knees caught between laughing and crying. If anyone would have walked by at that exact moment she knew she probably looked insane, her hair a sweaty, frizzy mess of wavy curls, her face and clothes covered in someone else’s blood and the purple bruises around her throat standing out in grotesque contrast to the rest of her pale skin. She stayed there in front of the ridiculous statues like some zealot waiting for a sign. The sign came a few moments before dawn when the lollipop charm around her neck popped like a fire cracker singeing her dirty shirt. The necklace fell to the ground and ignited in a bright orange light. When the light faded all that was left was a single feather, almost as long as her forearm and a dizzying array of all the colors you would find in a sunset. River picked up the feather with trembling fingers, uncontrollable sobs broke from her sore throat and she held the feather to her chest.

Gabriels sacrifice allowed Dean, Sam and Kali to escape Lucifer’s clutches. Kali destroyed the vials of their blood as they jumped into the Impala. The goddess disappeared from the backseat with out a word once the lights of The Elysian Fields hotel faded in the rearview mirror. Dean pushed the Impala as fast as she could go for as long as he could. The gas gauge finally warning him he had to feed his Baby. The sun had risen when Dean pulled off the highway into a busy truck stop. The brothers sat silently in the car for several minutes still processing the last few hours. “What do you think is so important about the movie?” Dean finally asked. 

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know. I guess…we can see if there’s anything on it. I’ll grab my laptop while you fill up.” Dean nodded and exited the car. After fueling up his car Dean drove to a secluded area of the truck stop while Sam started the DVD. It first appeared to be “Casa Erotica 13” complete with cheesy porno keyboard intro music and a horrible opening scene. Until the brothers recognized Gabriel wearing a Ron Jeremy-esque stick on mustache. “I am not watching him plow those chicks,” Dean muttered disgustedly as the Archangel sauntered onto the set. 

“Hey boys, if you’re watching this I’m dead,” Gabriel suddenly said staring directly into the camera. Sam slapped his brothers arm and they watched in disbelief. “You’re welcome by the way. I no doubt died heroically pulling your lanky asses out of the proverbial fire. And Lemon Drop, you’re probably with these two losers, you’re stronger than you think and these two gobstoppers need you.” Gabriel pulled off the mustache and smiled widely. “I’m gonna lay some knowledge on you now so take notes. Without me you are up the proverbial creek and there ain’t no paddle. Your best bet now is to put Lucy back on time out. How? Well, you geniuses have already collected a couple rings from the legion of doom so go get the rest. All four rings together make up the lock to Lucifers cage. It’s up to you to figure out how to get him back into said cage but with the rings you can make sure that bag of dicks stays there. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have some kielbasa to deliver.” Sam turned the computer off before Gabriel delivered that as aforementioned polish sausage to the busty blonde waiting on the heart shaped bed in the background.

Dean let out a long whistle. “Hell of a Plan C don’t you think?”

“What?” Sam asked.

“If Cas can’t deliver on God or the Colt. Those last two sons of bitches have to show them selves eventually right?” Dean answered. 

“You think God’s really out there? Or the Colt?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, “I gotta have faith in something. I’m gonna call Riv, try and find out where Gabriel shazamed her to.” 

Sam let out a deep breath being that close to Lucifer had terrified him. More than he would ever let his brother know. The way Lucifers eyes had bore into him, memorizing every cell of his being. The closest he had ever been to the Devil was when the Archangel invaded his dreams and those had left him feeling violated and hopeless. 

Dean cursed under his breath as River’s phone went to voicemail. He hung up and tried again and again and again. She finally answered on his fourth attempt. “Dean?” Her voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.

“Yeah princess, it’s me. Where are you?”

She hesitated, watching as a group of fanny pack wearing tourists walked past her. She had found a water fountain and scrubbed most of Odin’s blood from her face and arms. There was nothing she could do about the bruises on her neck except try and strategically arrange her long hair. “Waterbury, Vermont,” she finally said. 

“Vermont? What the hell is in Vermont?” Dean asked annoyed at Gabriel and his bullshit even after death.

River laughed hollowly, “The Ben and Jerry factory. I’m gonna take down the Ver-monster when the scoop shop opens.”

“Fine, kill some time. We’ll be there tonight to pick you up,” Dean said.

“No,” she answered. “I can’t….” another sob threatened to break her recently gained composure. “He’s dead, Dean.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, “I know sweetheart. I know. We got a plan. We can do this.”

“No,” she shook her head and wiped her free hand quickly across her face at the treasonous tears that were causing her emotional grip to slip back into despair. “We can’t win, Dean. He’s too strong. I saw him, I felt him.”

“I need you to be strong. We’re coming to get you.”

“I won’t be here. Don’t waste the gas,” she took another deep breath, “I just need some time, please. I can’t do this right now….”

“River, baby, please,” his voice broke. He slammed his free hand on the steering wheel.

“I’m gonna lose my place in line… I just need some time.”

“We don’t have time. If he catches us again, its over….River?” His voice echoed over dead air.


	45. Chapter 45

Ch 45

River ended up sharing the Vermonster with a group of Chinese tourists. The group of six friends had left their home in Lanzhou, China the week before. A dark sadness clung to them however, that even the sugary mountain of ice cream couldn’t completely dispel. Several of the friends had received word from home that a virulent flu had sprung up in their city. Phone lines were down and family members weren’t answering their requests for information. River checked her own phone for any information on the American news outlets and found only two small articles that promised to update as soon as their Asian correspondents reported. They parted ways after scraping the bottom of the huge bucket of ice cream clean. 

River hot wired a car at a shopping center a few miles away from the ice cream factory and headed in no particular direction. Sighing she pulled out her phone and made a phone call. “Who is this? You’re not supposed to have this number!” Rufus’s gruff voice barked into the phone.

River smiled, “It’s me you paranoid bastard.”

“River? What the hell you want, girl?”

“I want a god damn job you cantankerous ass,” she replied.

Rufus was silent for several breaths, “What kind of job?” He finally asked.

She shook her head and sighed, “The kind where I get to kill something. Preferably several somethings.”

“I might have a thing or two for you.”

“Great, splendiferous…Can I borrow a couple guns? All my shit is somewhere in Texas.”

“Fine. I expect payment for my altruistic sharing of weapons.”

“Black or Blue?” she asked indicating his preference for Johnny Walker whiskey.   
Rufus laughed, “Blue and a bottle of Crown Royal XR.”

“You price gouging son of a bitch,” River grumbled. “I’ll be there in a few hours.” She arrived at Rufus’ fortress with the required bottles of alcohol. Rufus in turn gave her a small duffle bag full of ammo, salt, holy water, handguns and a shotgun. As well as a list of potential cases. “Holy shit, Rufus. All of these?”

He nodded, “Looks like every evil son of a hellhound is on the prowl. Too many of them and not enough of us.”

She decided to start down south, swing by Texas and pick up her belongings from Ed’s house, the guns and other cache of weapons she could part with if needed. But her journals and the few lore books she carried with her were irreplaceable. She needed a few days maybe a few weeks to clear her head. Lucifer had stoked the fires of anxiety and self doubt and losing Gabriel was a band around her heart that wasn’t going to loosen anytime soon. She had his feather tucked into her boot for safekeeping and it gave her a little comfort.

Weeks had a bad habit of slipping by when you spent most of your time driving between no name cities to kill some no name monster or ghost. Just a few days after their narrow escape from Lucifer the Winchesters found themselves voluntarily checked into a mental hospital. Dean had received a frantic phone call from one of their fathers old acquaintances, Martin a semi-retired hunter who now resided at Glennwood Springs Psychiatric Hospital, begging for help. Apparently some mystery monster was noshing on his fellow patients. The monster turned out to be a wraith. A wraith that fed on Sam’s guilt about setting Lilith free and his fear of Lucifer. The wraith also got it’s tendrils into Dean, feeding on his self loathing and anger. “You can’t save everyone, Dean,” the pretty auburn haired psychiatrist told him, “I mean you can’t even save yourself. Do you really think you, Dean Winchester the high school drop out, the loser with $5 to his name can stop Lucifer? You couldn’t save your own sons. You couldn’t stop Sam from killing Lilith. You broke the first seal and started the Apocalypse. Lucifer is too strong and you will fail just like you always do.” The psychiatrist of course turned out to be a hallucination induced by the Wraith. Her words stuck with him however, echoing in his head even after he killed the evil bitch that had been masquerading as one of the nurses. He wasn’t giving up per se but he wasn’t going to be overly surprised if the world ended because he was to weak to stop it.

“Ed just give me my shit,” River demanded standing in the doorway of the Ghostfacers two room apartment above his parents garage.   
“I just wanted to…to tell you I’m totally ok with being friend-zoned.” He stammered. Harry stood behind him nodding earnestly. “Your videos are some of the highest rated on our website.”

“Cheese and rice, you two,” she crossed her arms tightly over her chest and let out a long breath. “You guys are pretty ok guys, ok? But I am not gonna go down that path with you Ed, ever. EVER. I was not in a very good place, I am still not in a very good place. Honestly, I haven’t been in a good place in a couple of decades but thats besides the fucking point…” She said pushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Shit is going down right. Shit way, way above your pay grade and I’m not going to drag you down with me. So please just give me my stuff and stay safe.” The Ghostfacers assented and returned her duffle bag solemnly. She turned towards the door and stopped, “Just to prove we’re all cool with being friends; how about you guys come get a tattoo with me?” She was able to convince Ed and Harry into getting the anti-possession tattoo while she decided to get her nose pierced. The tiny sparkly white jewel in her nose made her happy, Gabriel would probably have hated it, she wasn’t sure how Dean would like the new hole in her face. Feeling slightly better that Ed and Harry at least wouldn’t be possessed by demons she left Texas. 

She called Bobby on her way to a salt and burn in West Virginia. “Hey Papa Bear.” She felt a deep burn of guilt for not seeing the man that had become her surrogate father. She had called him once or twice in the passing months to check in, promising she would be come see him but she never showed. Seeing Bobby Singer broken and in a wheelchair was more than she could handle right now. 

“Hey girl, what are you up to?” Bobby was home, in his study having just hung up with Dean. He had sent the brothers to check out a strange case in Illinois, a 25 year old man had died of old age. 

“Got a list of shit Rufus gave me to check out,” She answered. “Gonna go burn some bitch that killed a couple husbands and is now pushing old people down stairs. Her manor got turned into a ritzy retirement villa after her death and she’s not very happy about it.”

“How about you swing by here instead? I can make some phone calls take that case of your hands….The boys are at a case in Illinois I could do with the company.” His freehand pushed one of the wheels on his prison back and forth agitatedly.

River cleared her throat, shifting her cellphone on her shoulder. “Yeah…maybe. In a couple of days. I should finish this case I’m already almost there. I should probably hang up before I get pulled over. Talk to you soon Papa Bear.” She hung up before Bobby could respond. 

“Balls,” he muttered to his empty house. It turned out to be fortuitous that River didn’t come to Sioux Falls after all. A few hours after the first phone call confirming that the case was definitely worth investigating Dean called back requesting Bobby to bone up on some magical research. It appeared they may be dealing with a witch that using some sort of spell to take the years people had left to live or perhaps return them effectively giving them a new lease on life. The older hunter made a rash decision, grabbed some supplies and decided to head to Illinois. He’d spent close to five months stuck in that damned chair and it was five months too damn long.

Two nights after her phone call to Bobby, River found herself sitting in a 24 hour diner frequented by truck drivers and weary travelers. She’d just finished the salt and burn but not before the old bitch had killed again. Her cup of black coffee sat cooling in front of her and she picked at grave dirt stuck under her fingernails while she waited for her food. “I heard this place has great pancakes.” A well dressed man in his late 30s to early 40s slid into the seat next to her. 

“Fuck off, pal,” she retorted glancing up at him. Noting his short ash blonde hair, flecked with gray. His eyes were a soft, mellow green with fine laugh lines at the corners.

He let out a husky laugh, “Well aren’t you a barrel of fun.” The waitress bustled over and quickly poured him a cup of coffee before retreating to the kitchen. “I’ve been looking all over for you, River McGregor. You’ve been a real bitch to track down….” His hand struck out and ensnared her thin wrist, she gasped in pain as her skin scalded at his touch. “If you go for that gun on your hip or that knife in your boot, every single person in this restaurant will die.” His eyes turned to obsidian and he smiled maliciously. The din of forks and knives scraping on plates suddenly stopped as did the cook behind the high counter and the waitress balancing a tray full of heavy plates. River spared a glance around and noticed the dozen or so patrons in the restaurant completely immobile. “Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way. The hard way being you sit here and we watch as these people suffocate to death, it’s a very nasty way to die. The easy way being you leave peacefully with me.”

River swallowed thickly, “Who are you?”

“My name is Harab, you can call me Harry if that makes you feel better.” The Demon said smiling broadly. With his free hand he took a long drink of his hot coffee and smacked his lips appreciatively. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

“Nope. Don’t care either. If you’re gonna kill me just kill me.”

Harab slammed his coffee cup down, “What use would you be to me dead? You took something from me, something precious.” 

River looked worriedly at the men and women around her, several had begun to turn ugly shades of maroon. “I’ve killed a lot of bad things. Maybe you could be a tad more specific?”

“Louisiana. A coven of witches and a powerful weapon. Ring any bells?” 

“Shit,” River thought quickly to herself. Remembering the swamp witches that had kidnapped Sam and Dean and the gauntlet she had taken to Levi to destroy. 

“Ah there it is. Recollection,” He yanked her towards him, “You killed my wives. You stole from me. Now, easy way or hard way? Times a ticking.” 

River nodded her head and slid off the stool. “Let them go.” The Demon blinked, letting his pale green eyes show. The men and women took a deep breath as one, coughing and spluttering as their lungs started working again. ‘Harry’ marched River out of the diner in front of him. “Where are you taking me?”

“No, dear it’s where you’re taking me,” He steered her towards her car. “The Pow-Wow magician that destroyed my gauntlet? He’s joining the party as well. You drive, I’ll talk. We’ll get to know each other.”

“No. Fuck you, you black eyed son of a bitch,” she hissed. She pulled out the glass bottle of holy water she had tucked in her jacket pocket and smashed it on the Demons face. He screamed in rage as his flesh bubbled. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te... cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare... “ She rattled off the exorcism causing the injured demon to thrash and bellow. He opened his mouth and black smoke flew out, knocking her off her feet. The smoke disappeared into the night sky as River jumped in her car. She peeled out of the parking lot, gravel and dirt flying behind her. Her phone trembled in her sweaty palm as she punched in Levi’s number. 

He answered on the second ring, “River have you any idea what time it is?”

“Levi! Somethings coming for you! Demon named Harab he smoked out before I could exorcise him,” River yelled into the phone punching down on the gas pedal causing the stolen Toyota to shake and rattle.

“Harab? God be with me,” Levi prayed. A great crash echoed in Levi’s home as his front door was kicked in. He dropped the phone a second later and River’s heart froze as the sounds of a struggle and Levi’s loud chanting echoed over the phone. 

“Levi!…. Levi!” she screamed. A gurgled yell was the last thing she heard before the line went dead. She reached Levi’s house after dawn. Moses, Levi’s faithful horse, was standing in his stall on the side of the house and neighed in greeting at River as she climbed the steps that led to Levi’s front door. The front door swung loosely in the doorjamb, the side of the door splintered where the lock had been kicked in. She readjusted her grip on her shotgun, closed her eyes and took a deep breath steeling herself against whatever horrible thing she was about to walk into. She toed the door slowly open and stepped into Levi’s home.

The salt line Levi kept along the floor in front of the door was a charred black mess as was the ornate hand carved wooden Celtic cross hanging above the door. Obvious signs of a struggle marred the living room, the coffee table was over turned, books open and ripped. Glass jars of dried flowers and herbs smashed. A thick puddle of congealing blood was on the floor between the kitchen and dining room. Levi’s cracked phone lay in the middle of the dark red, sticky mess. River heard a low pitched whine come from the direction of Levi’s bedroom. She trekked slowly down the dark hallway, checking the bathroom and coat closet as she went. She reached the half open door to Levi’s room and took another deep breath. She’d never stepped foot in Levi’s bedroom, leaving the man to his privacy whenever she’d spent the night on the couch. A four-poster King sized bed took up most of the room. The headboard another of Levi’s woodworking masterpieces; a hand carved vision of the Biblical story of the Lamb and the Lion along with hundreds of hand carved flowers and doves. A bookcase and wooden trunk sat in one corner of the room next to a hand made rocking chair. Levi’s wide brimmed straw hat sat hung on a rack near the door. She heard another whine followed by a dull thump… River slowly knelt and peaked under the bed. Two wide, frightened amber eyes shone in the darkness under Levi’s bed. She let out a long breath, “Absalom! Come ‘ere boy. Come here…” Absalom, Levi’s scaredy cat Springer Spaniel lay shaking and huddled in the shadows. Thump…thump….thump, his tail banged off the polished wood floor. “Come on boy. It’s ok,” she cooed at the frightened animal. He scooted forward on his haunches and finally crawled out from under the bed. The dog gave her a timid lick on her cheek as River buried her face in his chocolate brown fur sobbing. 

She spent the next hour cleaning the blood and debris in Levi’s living room. She’d just finished sweeping up the last bit of glass when her phone vibrated in her pocket. Chuck had sent her a text message, the first and only one he had sent her since they had exchanged numbers months prior: “Had Vision. Sam and Dean in big trouble! Demons! Need help! Come ASAP Pineview Hotel” a second text popped up with an address. A cold stone of anxiety and dread sunk in Rivers stomach at the thought of Harob (just call him “Harry”) and what he might have to do with this frantic message from Chuck Shurely, Prophet of the Lord. Her fingers shook so bad she dropped the phone the first time she tried to call Chuck. Absalom sitting at her heels and whining while she cursed in increasing frequency and volume when Chuck didn’t answer. River tried three of the Dean’s numbers next and both of Sam’s. Neither brother answered. “God Damn it!” she screamed causing Absalom to tear back down the hallway and return to his hiding spot under Levi’s bed. “Fuck, fuck, Bobby fucking answer!” The older hunter did not answer either. She paced back and forth in Levi’s small kitchen, running her hands through her wavy hair. She punched through the contact list on her phone, double checking she’d tried everyones number. Skipping Rufus since the cranky bastard had informed her he was going on a vacation to Cabo and not to bother him for at least the next five weeks. “Cas!” She tried Castiel’s number and was informed by the robotic voice that the number was temporally disconnected as there were no more minutes available on the call plan. She was too afraid to try and pray to him, worried some unwelcome feathered dick like Zachariah would intercept it. “Fuck!” she yelled again in the empty kitchen.

“You son of a bitch!” she muttered tucking her phone in her back pocket. River walked into Levi’s sitting room lined with bookcases full of scrolls, grimoires and spell ingredients that hadn’t been damaged when Harob attacked. It took her several minutes to find the spell she needed. “Should’a done this to begin with dumb ass,” she muttered angrily to herself as she finished grinding the putrid herbs and combining them in a small silk satchel. She tied the demon hex bag to her belt loop furious at herself for not considering some douchebag demon would eventually want to fuck with her. After learning of Lilith’s death she had considered the Angels as her biggest threat and with Gabriel gone there was little she could do besides try to avoid them. She then gathered the weapons she had stashed all over Levi’s house, having told Levi where each and every one was and knowing he would refuse to ever use them. She dumped them into her duffle bag and shoved everything into the front seat of her car. Moses nickered at her again then gave an annoyed snort nudging his deep tawny nose at the empty feed bag. “Alright, I’m comin’ big guy.” After feeding and watering the horse she gathered Absalom and walked him to Levi’s closest neighbor. Doing what Levi did (being a Pow-Wow healer and fighter against all things evil among other things) he had instructed River if anything ever did happen to him that Jack Henderson, the man down the road, would take care of Absalom and Moses for him. Giving Jack a generic “Levi had to leave town suddenly” excuse she left the shell shocked canine in his stead and returned to her car. 

She sped away from her missing friends house and headed to the Pineview Hotel. River tried Dean’s phone number one last time, a combination of fear and anger setting her nerves endings off. The setting sun, usually her favorite time of day, was mocking her. It would take her all night to reach the address Chuck had sent her. “It’s me again. If you get this message and your ok please call me ASAP, if not I’m coming in guns blazing,” she took a deep breath before adding, “I’m so fucking sorry about this mess. I just want to come home.“

Unbeknownst to her, Dean and Bobby were in a literal race against time. The 25 year old man that had died of old age had died because he lost a magical poker game against a 700 year old Witch. Bobby had foolishly played against the same Witch, betting close to 30 years of his life hoping that if he won he would be able to walk again. Well, he didn’t win. Dean in his usual head strong, cocky fashion had sat at the poker table as well. He raised the stakes to four decades, not thinking of the ramifications for himself if he lost, focusing solely on Bobby. Dean lost as well and was now an angina riddled old fart that got winded walking up a couple flights of stairs. So it was up to Sam, the weakest poker player of the group. Even River had beat him at a couple hands when Dean was trying to teach her how to play. Time was slipping away from his brother and his surrogate father.

River reached the Pineview Hotel early the next morning. Slamming her car into the parking spot on the other side of Dean’s shiny black Impala. Her fingers twitched with anxiety and caffeine, the floorboard of her car littered with at least four empty cans of energy drinks. “If I live through this I’m gonna die of a fucking heart attack,” she thought wryly. Not sure if the pounding in her chest was a panic attack or another side of affect of the caffeine. She slung her weapon loaded duffle bag over her back, cradled her shotgun in one arm triple checking it was loaded with salt rounds. Then patted her pockets to make sure she had more rounds and holy water with in reach. Her fingers touched the hex bag on her hip. Lastly she piled her hair high up on her head in a quick top knot so that the long strands wouldn’t fall in her face if she had to run. She ran one hand lovingly along Baby’s trunk, noting that Dean had apparently picked up some new license plates and headed for the Hotels main entrance. A high pitched scream echoed out of the half open doors and River charged the rest of the way up the stairs.

“All right you black eyed assbags! Where the fuck are they!” she bellowed sliding into the front lobby. A dozen or so flannel and denim clad bewlidered individuals turned to face her. A minuscule waif of a young woman was jumping up and down excitedly pointing at a huge handprinted banner: “Supernatural SuperFan Convention”.

“That looks awesome!” she screamed again, “Oh my god! You came!” The tiny blonde woman ran up to River who stiffened and pointed her sawed off at her.

“You just stop right there—What the everliving fuck! Where the fuck are Sam and Dean!” River yelled. 

A few flannel clad individuals raised their hands and chuckled, “We’re right here!” River’s blue eyes quickly jumped between the woman in front of her to the lobby which was packed with tables and stalls covered in various kinds of merchandise (Impala coffee mugs, “Dean Girl”/ “Sam Girl” and “Mother of future badasses” t-shirts, along with stacks and stacks of novels). “Who the fuck are you! What the fuck is this!” she yelled pointing her shot gun at the tables. 

“I’m Becky! Me and the boys go way back! I sent you the invite, obviously!” she smiled, her eyes wide and bright. “This is the first ever Supernatural-con!”

River slowly lowered her shotgun, “The invite!? Are you shitting me?” 

A short, round woman with a horrible stick on beard and trucker hat ambled up to River and clapped her on the shoulder, “Damn girl! You went all out! You’re definitely gonna give the other Rivers a run for their money!” She laughed pointing at a group of Ginger haired women convened in a corner staring daggers at her.

“Where are Sam and Dean?” River repeated quietly, closing her eyes, taking a deep breath and trying not to become a mass murderer. 

“Well….I’m hoping they show up also. But I haven’t heard from them yet,” Becky answered. 

“Where is Chuck?” River asked.

“He’s in the bar.” River nodded and brushed past the smaller woman. “River, wait a sec!” Becky ran back up to her, “You need to check your weapons at the front door, they’ll have to attach a little tag so we all know they aren’t real.” River chuckled. “And I highly recommend you book a room because we are filling up fast!”


	46. Chapter 46

Ch 46

River walked into the dimly lit bar. A jukebox sat in one corner, loaded with CDs instead of vinyls. A chalkboard above the bar listed special drinks for the convention (Shots of Hunters Helper $3, Lemon Drops $6, drinks called The Ghost killer, The Shapeshifter, Hell hounds, and a fun one called ‘Knocked up and Homeless’ containing who knows what for $8 each). Small rickety looking tables were scattered around the floor, the periphery of the bar lined in deep booths. She scanned the few people in the bar; being that it was still well before noon the more upright convention attendees weren’t drinking yet. Two men stood near the jukebox, a shorter round one and a taller thin one were skimming through the musical offerings. The bar tender, a very bored looking woman in her early twenties wearing some sort of period costume with a long sleeved, high necked button up shirt and floor length skirt was polishing glasses. Then in the farthest, darkest corner of the bar River saw the top of a head, whips of curly ash brown hair rising above the high back of the booth.

She approached him from behind slamming her shotgun onto the wood table causing the author to jump, and dropped her heavy bag on the ground as she slid into the booth across from him. “Hi-ya, Chuck,” she said smiling sarcastically.

Chuck’s eyes darted quickly between the gun, the hunter and the stack of index cards he had been studying.“River….River what the hell are you doing here?” he stammered. His fingers inched towards one of the two shot glasses full of amber liquid sitting in front of him. River swatted his hand aside and tossed back the first shot. 

She let out a deep “mmmm” licking her lips, “Top shelf, Chuck. You got good taste.” She turned the shot glass over and slid it towards the end of the table, tapping it to signal the bartender they would need more. “Becky, who apparently goes way back with Dean and Sam, invited me.” River pulled her phone out of her pocket and read the text message she received from Chuck, “Had Vision. Sam and Dean in big trouble! Demons! Need help! Come ASAP Pineview Hotel.” She grabbed the second shot of whiskey and downed it, the liquor burning it’s way down her throat and warming her cold stomach. “Where’s my friend, Prophet?”

Chuck stammered again as the waitress brought two more shots of the expensive whiskey over. River swatted his hands away again when he reached for one of the glasses. “Which-which friend?” he cleared his throat nervously.

River smiled thinly her eyes filling with unshed tears, “Levi Stoltzfus. Is he alive?”

“I uh….the Amish guy right? I haven’t seen him. I mean I haven’t had any visions of him…. Are you ok? I dreamed of a black eyed demon grabbing you in a diner.”

River nodded, wiping at a spilled tear with the palm of her hand. “I’m alive…Dean and Sam aren’t answering their phones. I drove all god damn night and they’re not here…. Do you know where they are?”

“I had a…vision,” he said quietly, “They were playing poker. I didn’t see much else.”

River spun the empty shot glass on the table, “Poker?” She nodded and sniffed. “Hmmm….Do you like Becky? ‘cause I’m seriously considering shooting her.”

“Don’t shoot her. She’s a little over zealous but she’s harmless-I think,” Chuck told her. River swallowed down the third and fourth shots of whiskey, grimacing as the alcohol joined the soup of anxiety meds and energy drinks that had been all she’d eaten in the last two days. 

“Well, thanks for the drinks, Chuck. Stay classy. I’m going to go get a room and come back and drink some more.” She grabbed her shotgun and slid out of the booth, the liquor making its way through her blood stream, helping to warm the frigid layer of fear that had settled over her since her run in with Harob.

She booked a room, the last one left per the receptionist at the front desk and received a pamphlet full of the the history of the hotel which was apparently ‘haunted' and the site of several murders. River also picked up a timetable with the schedule of all the different panels and side shows the Con had to offer. Chuck himself was having a panel that evening which explained his nervousness and stack of note cards. She headed up the grand staircase to the second floor of the historic building. There were a few more convention goers exploring the halls, one dressed as a ghost of some sort and another as man with a hook for a hand. She vaguely remembered Dean telling her about having killed the angry spirit of a hook wielding psycho a few years before they met. “Who are you supposed to be?” Hook man asked her in a thick German accent. 

River rolled her eyes, fumbling with the key to her room. “Rufus Turner, jackass.” She said slamming the door in his face. The room was nice. A large fluffy looking bed with a huge headboard took up most of the room. An ornate dresser, a table with one chair and a small burgundy couch rounded out the furniture. She tossed her duffle bag on the bed along with her shotgun; laid a quick line of salt at the doorway and along the one window and decided to get a shower to look somewhat presentable before heading back downstairs. After her shower she spent extra time doing her make up, she was definitely going to give the other River’s a run for their money. She rounded out her clothing choice with a Lynyrd Skynyrd tank top that showed off some of the tattoos on her back, dark jeans, sturdy boots and the hex bag that smelled a little like Sam’s feet after he went for a long jog. She carefully put Gabriel’s feather within the pages of her journal before locking the room up behind her.

According to the schedule a live reading of several fan fictions (mature audiences only!) was starting in fifteen minutes. Followed by “Frightened little boy: The secret life of Dean” which River wanted to get a primo seat for. She sat painfully through the first two stories. She’d finally had her fill when ‘Your Name Reader’ decided it was time to be deflowered. “Dean would never turn down sex but I mean come on! Have you ever been in a truck stop bathroom? Would you really want to be de-virginized in a bathroom stall? You’re just asking for some sort of itchy rash on your lady parts!” She was ousted from the panel by Becky who had hellfire blazing behind her eyes after that outburst. She passed a group of Sam’s and Dean’s and a Bobby or two on her way back to the bar.

Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead or Alive” was blaring over the cheap sound system and a few scattered cos-players were singing along. River closed her eyes and groaned internally; she hadn’t listened to the fucking song since the night Dean had been dragged to hell. She ordered a boilermaker and an extra shot of whiskey. There wasn’t going to be enough alcohol in the building to make this any more tolerable. Seeing dozens of people pretending to be Dean, Sam and for some reason her, along with a slew of ‘demons’, a few witches and monsters was setting her on edge. She tossed back the shot and started on the cold glass of beer when a young man slid into the seat next to her. “Hi, I’m Dean,” he told her.“What’s your name?”

River rolled her eyes and took another long drink, not turning to look at him. “River.” She answered waiving at the bartender for another shot. 

“Let me buy you a drink?” he asked watching as River downed the next shot. The quicker she got drunk the quicker she could go back to her room and maybe black out for a couple of hours of sleep. Shutting out the sick feeling of guilt, fear and anger that was growing more intense every hour. She knew all she had to do was burn the Hex bag and let Harob find her again. He’d come sooner rather than later if she was lucky and then all these feelings would be gone. No more worrying, no more fear. She turned towards ‘Dean’ intending to tell him to go kick rocks somewhere else and saw for the first time the sick reptilian yellow contact lenses he wore.

“What the fuck is this shit? Why the fuck do your eyes look like that?” she snapped.

The guy smiled, “I’m Shapeshifter Dean from Dream a Little Dream. The one where the Shifter finally tracks down River and Dean rescues her….”

“Shapeshifter Dean?” she repeated. It came out as more of a feral growl, her hand squeezing the empty shot glass enough to cause a crack in the glass.

“Hey, it’s just….it’s just a joke. You know? Don’t take it so seriously,” the guy lamented.

“A joke? You think its funny!” River yelled. She had ‘Shifter Dean’ by the collar of his shirt and was fuming. Her cheeks and chest a ruddy pink from the mix of alcohol hissing through her blood stream and fury. “You’re cos-playing as a murdering-raping monster.” She shook the man roughly. “That thing raped me! Choked me until I passed out, burned me with cigarettes until I woke up. Then did it again and again and again! And it’s a joke to you!” 

Suddenly two large forms surged to her side. “I think you should leave the lady alone!” a shorter, rounder man said, his voice deep and throaty. 

“Or you can see how you like this silver dagger!” the taller, lankier one growled in a faux deep voice. He held an obviously home made ‘silver’ knife coated in shiny aluminum foil.

“Ahh silver,” The ‘Shifter’ hissed and pulled away,”You win this round hunters!” The ‘Hunters’ smiled and turned towards River. She sat down heavily on her bar stool and drew in a shaky breath.

Angry tears started to fall from the corners of her eyes and she laughed almost hysterically, “Who the fuck are you two heroes?”

“Oh, yeah sorry,” the taller one said, “I’m Sam and this is my brother Dean.” The shorter one nodded shyly.

“Well, wonder boys, you wanna drink?” The two joined her at the bar and they ordered a round of “Knocked up and Homeless” which surprisingly turned out to be a blended mudslide. “So what are your real names?” River asked after they finished the first round. ‘Sam’ ordered the next round of Ghostkillers with extra shots of Hunters Helper. 

“I’m Barnes and this is my….boyfriend Demian,” The shorter one told her blushing furiously. Demian smiled.

“Nice to meet you, the real you. Don’t be so fucking shy. You two make a cute couple.” The shots of Whiskey arrived and River knocked hers back, “We’re gonna need more of these.”

****  
Sam won the poker match against the witch, Patrick, returning Dean and Bobby’s gambled years. The celebrations was short lived once the brothers had time to check their phones. Finding several missed calls and distraught voice messages from River along with a menacing text message from Chuck (Life or Death. Demons, Shifters, monsters everywhere. Big showdown. Need Help! Pineview Hotel) they jumped into the Impala and drove to the provided address. Dean cursing the entire drive, Chuck wasn’t answering his phone and River’s went straight to voicemail. Dean spun into the packed parking lot of the historic Hotel, the brothers jumping out of the car and soon as the tires stopped spinning. They found Chuck outside pacing and talking to himself. “Chuck! Hey man are you ok?” Dean yelled.

The author stopped his pacing, “Hey guys, yeah I’m ok. What are you doing here….shit.”

“What do you mean ‘shit’? We got your text we’ve been driving for hours! Life or Death, Monsters and Demons? What the fuck is going on? Is River here?” Dean shouted.

The author raised his hand to calm the agitated hunter. Sam crossed his arms angrily over his chest and stared down at him.“Look, it’s just kind of a misunderstanding,” Chuck began. “We’re ok. Everything’s ok. River’s inside somewhere…” 

“A misunderstanding, Chuck? Do you even know how many plates we got spinning right now? We are trying to ice the devil and keep Michael and the other feathered douchebags off our asses….a fucking misunderstanding?” Dean pushed past him and ran up the stairs, Sam close on his heels. They skidded to a halt inside the door much the same way River had done a few hours earlier. The banner proclaiming the Pineview Hotel as the site of the inaugural “Supernatural SuperFan Convention” caught Sam’s eye and he slapped his brothers arm. 

“What the hell?” Dean muttered as they stared at the crowded room. They were awash in a sea of flannel, blue jeans and “Son of a bitch”-es being muttered. An evil scarecrow walked by them holding hands with a woman in white. A high pitched squeal of delight rang behind them and two tiny arms encircled Sams waist. 

“You guys came! I wasn’t sure if you’d missed my text!” the voice squeaked from somewhere in Sam’s midsection.

Sam untangled himself from the steel grip jumping away form his unseen attacker. He stared down at the short blonde woman. “Becky?!” he said racking his brain for her name.

She stared up at him adoringly, “You’ve been thinking about me! I’ve been thinking about you too, Sam!” Becky moved to insnare him in another embrace and Sam took a large step away from her.

“You sent the text?” Sam asked.

Becky nodded and smiled shyly,”I didn’t know how else to get you guys here. I figured if you though it was a case you’d rush over and it worked! Because, here you are!”

“What the hell is this Becky?” Dean sighed. 

Becky smiled widely, “Welcome to the first ever Supernatural convention! It’s a place where fans of these amazing books can convene to discuss and enjoy and cosplay our favorite series! You guys have to checkout all the booths!”

Dean ran his hands through his auburn hair, “Where is River?”

Becky’s smile faltered, “Oh. Her. You know if I’d have known she was so….difficult I wouldn’t have invited her.” Dean was about to repeat his question when he saw a pale, copper haired woman being supported under the arms by two men headed for the stairs.

“Where the hell do you two think you’re going with her!” Dean barked striding across the lobby. The men froze and turned towards Dean’s angry voice, River looked up drunkly and muttered, “Ahh shit, I’m in big trouble now.”

“We’re taking her to her room, Beiber,” Demian huffed, adjusting River on his arm.

“He called you Beiber! Team 2.0, you guys are awesome.” River laughed, “Seriously though D, These guys are fine, totally fine. Nothing to worry about…I jus had one too many Ghostkillers and need to go lay down.”

“You two jobbers can drop her and piss off,” Dean growled. Sam joined his brother and stared down at the two men on either side of River.

Barnes stepped forward causing River to stumble and laugh again. “Why should we do that pal? She’s already been attacked by a Shifter tonight how do we know you aren’t a couple of creeps trying to take advantage of a drunk girl?” Dean rolled his shoulders menacingly and Sam went to full bitchface. 

“You guys are going to miss Carver’s panel. Thanks for the drinks. I need to talk to these surly fellows anyways,” River patted Demian and Barnes on the shoulders and motioned them away with her hands. “I’m ok. Fuck off and enjoy the show.”

“You were attacked by a shifter?” Dean demanded as soon as the two strangers walked away.

“No, not a real shifter. Just some asshat that would be funny to dress up like the monster that raped me.” River swallowed thickly. “Where the fuck have you been? I thought ….” Hot tears spilled down her face as she looked up into Dean’s green eyes. 

“Hey, fuck, don’t cry. I’m here now.” Dean murmured quietly.

More angry tears spilled from her eyes. “There’s all these fucking fucks running around dressed up like you and me….Gods I shouldn’t be here.” She wiped at her face and almost lost her balance, the alcohol hitting her all at once and making her a little dizzy. “I think I should go back to my room…” 

“What’s goin’ on Riv? You’re plastered.” Sam asked her as she wobbled again on unsteady legs.

“I decided to go full fuck-up and get day drunk,” River answered grabbing on to Dean for balance. “I got the last room anyways so if you two don’t wanna spend the night in the car I guess you’re bunking with me….or Becky.” She said elbowing Sam in the ribs. “She’s a little bundle of psychosis isn’t she?”

Dean huffed, “You gonna tell us whats going on with you?”

River shook her head, “I got Levi killed.” Her eyes flooded with tears again as she buried her face in her hands. “And then I got this text from fucking Becky and I thought…that fucking demon got you. I was coming to rescue you.”

“What happened to Levi and what demon?” Sam asked quietly.

She sniffed and wiped at the tears still spilling from her eyes, “Harob.…I pissed him off a while back. Remember Louisiana? Good times. I killed his girlfriends. Levi broke his toy and now Gabe’s gone and I’m fair game. I should’a fuckin’ known better.” 

The floodgates opened again and Dean grabbed for her, pulling her tightly to his chest , “Hey, hey it’s ok sweetheart. Let’s get to your room so we can talk.”

She nodded against his chest, “I think I got snot on your shirt.”

“This shirts seen worse. Come on.” He led them towards the staircase to the second floor. 

River wobbling on drunk legs said, “I didn’t really think through drinking that much that quickly on an empty stomach.” She giggled drunkly, “Dude, I’m fucking smashed. You guys have perfect timing. Sam and Dean 2.0 were really not equipped to get my drunk ass back to my room.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing going to your room with two strangers anyways?” Dean murmured. 

“What? Barnes and Demian? Don’t worry about them. They’re cool, we don’t exactly play on the same team. You know what I mean?” Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. No, he did not know what River and her drunk ass ramblings meant. “I don’t think I can get on the escalator it’s moving too fast.” They stopped at the base of the stairs and River squinted trying to focus. “Yeah, I’ll just sit here and wait a minute.”

“River it’s stairs, it’s not- Forget it,” Dean muttered he scooped her up bridal style and headed up the stairs. “Which room is yours?”

“Lucky 13,” she told him smiling. “I’m gonna ‘boop’ your nose.”

“Don’t.”

“Boop,” River hummed tapping the tip of Dean’s nose as climbed the stairs. Sam laughed. “I miss you, hot stuff. You promise to stop being an asshole, I’ll promise not to lie about any more Archangels.” She nestled the side of her face into his warm neck.

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” Dean replied as he set her down outside the door to her room. 

“Well, all my Archangel friends are dead so theres that,” She said finally letting them into her room after several tense seconds of struggling against her dulled coordination and the stupid lock. She brushed Dean away several times until the door swung open.”Fuck off Winchester, I got it.”

“Why don’t you take a nap, Princess and we’ll hit the road when you’re sober?”

River nodded, her eyes half closed, “Thats sounds amazing…I’m gonna miss Chuck’s panel though.”

“We’ll give you the hi-lights,” Sam told her. 

“You’re such a good friend Sammy; when your not screwing a demon bitch.” River muttered into her pillow. It was Deans turn to laugh. They barely had time to breathe before a woman’s frightened scream echoed through the closed door.

“Shit. Babe we gotta check that out,” Dean said. River snored into her pillow as an answer. The brothers jogged out of the room and down the hall where a small crowd of suited and flanneled con attendees had gathered. “Excuse us, move please, professionals coming through,” Dean shouldered his way through the crowd followed by Sam’s enormous form. A woman sat ruffled in a corner. 

“Ma’am are you ok?” Sam asked leaning down and helping the shaken woman to stand.

She nodded still shivering, “I saw…a ghost!” The crowd ‘oohed’ and ‘ahed’ pushing in around Dean and Sam. The woman smiled widely, “Gather round everyone and I’ll tell you exactly what I saw! It was a full bodied apportion of Leticia Gore herself!”

Dean tossed his head back, groaned and pushed his way back through the crowd towards River’s room. Becky caught them in the hallway, “It’s time for the LARP-ing! Here’s the case file!” 

Dean grabbed the paper out of Becky’s hand and began to read it aloud to Sam, “Dad’s journal.” He stopped reading, shook his head and stared at his brother, “The Pineview Hotel is haunted by a vengeful spirit named Leticia Gore. Use all the tools I’ve given you over the years to solve this case. Find Leticia’s bones and burn them before the other teams. The grand prize is a $50 gift card to Sizzler- yeah sounds fantastic Becky. Definitely our type of case.” Dean said continuing to River’s room where they had left the door open, she still lay haphazardly on the bed, snoring softly. The commotion in the hallway not having disturbed her. 

Dean shut the door and turned towards his brother, “I need a drink.” 

They passed another group of ‘Agents’ and ‘Hunters’ interviewing the manager of the hotel. They heard enough in passing to get the gist of the story: One hundred years ago The Pineview Hotel was actually once an orphanage run by a sadistic woman named Leticia Gore. Leticia’s temper got the better of her one night and she murdered four boys in her care, then in a moment of regret she committed suicide. Her spirit still walks the halls of The Pineview looking for new victims.

Sam and Dean sat at the bar and ordered shots of “Hunters Helper” while staring disbelieving at the groups of people pretending to be them. “This just gets weirder right? No wonder River got shit faced, I don’t think I can handle much more of this myself,” Dean muttered knocking back his first shot. 

Sam nodded in agreement, “Look at her, the pregnant ginger in the Johnny Cash shirt. Pretty dedicated fan base.” Dean looked across the bar at the woman Sam was talking about. He smiled, remembering the way River’s t-shirts had stretched over her round stomach. She’d been ever more self conscious of the scars on her abdomen as the babies inside of her grew; even as he found the way her body was changing amazing and beautiful. Selfishly in awe that he had helped create something so awesome that her whole body was being altered. The only comfort he got in those last few weeks were the quiet moments when he would rest his head on the swell of her stomach and talk to his sons, telling them all the things he’d never get to tell them in person. “You ok?” Sam asked after a moment. Dean had been lost in thought the shot glass full of whiskey hanging in mid air.

He nodded and downed the whiskey. “She can’t have kids anymore. River.” Sam look at him quietly but said nothing. “She uhh said she got her ‘tubes tied’ or something. After Gabriel healed her. Didn’t want to risk it again…she would’ve been a good mom.”

“You would’ve been a good dad. You still can be, you know one day….I mean you basically raised me and I turned out sort of ok. Besides starting the Apocalypse.” Sam said giving Dean a half smile.

“I need to un-fuck this, Sammy. All of it. The world. Satan. Me and River. I need to find a way to un-fuck it,” Dean muttered quietly into his empty shot glass. 

“Listen to me Tim, this place is really haunted!” A short, chubby Sam cos player shouted at his friend.

“Paul, It was probably just one of the workers,” Tim pleaded with his frightened friend.

Paul turned around and wiped at his bloody forehead, “You think one of the workers did this? One of the workers tossed me around, hung me upside down? I saw them Tim! A woman and a little kid and they just disappeared!” The arguing friends stormed out of the bar. Sam and Dean watched them go and shared a silent look. They finished their drinks and headed to the check-in desk. After slipping the annoyed looking man that stood guard behind the counter $50 they got some real info about the hotel. It had indeed truly been an orphanage, there had been murders of four young children at the hands their caretaker, one Ms. Leticia Gore and several of the staff and guests had reported sightings of spirits and other paranormal anomalies. 

The brothers thanked the surly front desk attendant and returned to River’s room for supplies. She had burrowed her self under the thick comforters but otherwise remained unconscious growling angrily in her sleep when Dean tried to wake her. “Think she’ll be ok?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah. Maybe just leave her a note and some aspirin in case she wakes up,” Sam told him grabbing a box full of rock salt shells and their shotguns. Dean scribbled a quick note on the hotel stationary “Hotels really haunted. Watch out for Casper” and left it along side a glass of water and a couple of aspirin tablets. 

River woke a few hours after dawn, her head pounding and eyes gritty. Dean was nestled up behind her, the big spoon to her little spoon, face buried the back of her neck and snoring softly. Sam’s huge frame was asleep on the tiny two seater couch, his ridiculously long legs hangings over the arm rest. She gingerly untangled herself from Dean and noticed the note and pills he had left her. “Well, shit, guess I missed all the action,” she muttered to herself swallowing down the aspirin and glass of water. She gabbed some clean clothes from her duffle bag and jumped in the shower while the brothers slept. She emerged from the steamy bathroom half an hour later, her long damp hair loosely braided.

“Thats my shirt,” Dean said indicating the loose ‘The Smiths’ shirt River wore. 

“Dean Winchester’s ready to let the world know he listens to ‘The Smiths’?” she asked smirking.

He shook his head, “Keep it. Looks better on you.”

“Where’s Sam?”

“Gettin’ us some breakfast…I got something I want to show you.” He indicated Sams laptop that he had setup on the bed. She crawled up and sat next to him. He pushed play and the opening credits for ‘Casa Erotica 13’ scrolled up the screen.

River laughed, “Really? We’re just gonna jump right back into watching porn together? I thought we’d you know…talk and stuff first….” 

Deans green eyes shone mischievously and the corners of his mouth twitched, “Watch the movie, smart ass.” 

River bit her lower lip and turned her attention back to the porn, “Son of a bitch” She muttered as Gabriel sauntered into the frame. Gabriel started his spiel. River’s jaw clenching and unclenching as he spoke directly to her. “You asshole how could you be so stupid?” she whispered to the image of her dead friend. 

“I’m gonna lay some knowledge on you now so take notes. Without me you are up the proverbial creek and there ain’t no paddle. Your best bet now is to put Lucy back on time out. How? Well, you geniuses have already collected a couple rings from the legion of doom so go get the rest. All four rings together make up the lock to Lucifers cage. It’s up to you to figure out how to get him back into said cage but with the rings you can make sure that bag of dicks stays there. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have some kielbasa to deliver.” 

River let out a long breath and sat back against the headboard, “And there’s Gabriel’s ass…” Dean stopped the movie and let River digest the information Gabriel had passed on to them. “There’s two more rings left.”

Dean nodded, “Only two. We can do this. One way or the other, we can finish this.”

She snorted, “Yeah except the two Horsemen left are Death and Pestilence.” Sam opened the door carrying cups of coffee and pilfered muffins and fruit from the continental breakfast in the lobby. “So lets just put Death on the back burner for a minute. Because first we have to figure out a way to kill Death. Lets move onto Pestilence, shall we? You heard of the flu sweeping through Asia?” The brothers shook their heads. “No?” She pulled the laptop close to her and typed into a search engine. “The CDC and their international counterparts are calling it the Lóng Fāshāo, Dragon Fever Flu. Over 20,000 dead in less than a week in Lanzhou, China. It appeared out of no where and people started dying by the thousands. Then it burned itself out and disappeared. It’s just a matter of time before it’s here. Days maybe a few weeks.” She handed the laptop to Dean who skimmed the news articles, Sam standing over his shoulder. “I know our priorities guys but….I need to find Levi or the very least that mother fucker Harob.”

Sam sat heavily on the bed, “I called Bobby. He’s gonna start researching Harob, try and find out if there’s anything special about him.” He reached across the bed and squeezed River’s cool hand reassuringly then got up and took his turn in the shower. 

“I fucked up so bad, Dean….He cornered me. He was gonna kill a dozen innocent people if I didn’t go with him. I tried to exorcise him. I’m such a fucking idiot! I tried to warn Levi but Harob was too fast. He burned through Levi’s wardings. There was all this blood-“ River choked back a sob and covered her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook as she tried to cry quietly. 

“It’s not your fault. Levi knows this life and he’s a tough son of a bitch. If Harob wanted him dead he would’ve left his body,” Dean reassured her. “We’ll find. We’ll fix this, all of this.”

“Things were a lot fucking easier when I didn’t have anyone else to care about but myself,” she said after a few moments. “You and your brother fucked up my plans of dying alone on some hunt somewhere. Best I hoped for was winding up as a Jane Doe in some morgue freezer if there was enough of me left to be found.” She stared bleakly at a water stain on the wall across from her for several breaths. “Now I’ve got all these people…I’ve got family I can lose and it terrifies me.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” Dean told her. She let out a quick laugh and leaned into him, pressing her shoulder against his. He reached his hand out and faintly ran his outstretched fingers across the top of hers. “I like that thing in your nose.”

She smirked, “Yeah? Me too. Gives me character.”

His long callused fingers entwined with hers, “I got your message. About wanting to come home…Whats that mean?”

“You…you’re my home.” She answered voice feather lite. “You’re an asshole. And I’m angry at you, I’ve been angry for a long time. I’ve been fucking pissed basically since you told me you sold your soul. And everything else after that…I didn’t lie to you about Gabe to get back at you or-“

“I know that. I can’t take what I said back, what I’ve done to you. I am fucking furious at myself for leaving you behind. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the way I am. I want to be better,” He murmured. “I want you to come home, too. I’ll make this right. I’m begging you for another chance. I don’t fucking deserve it. I don’t know if I’m even gonna have enough time to fix this before the world ends but I want to try.” His free hand cupped her jaw turning her face towards him. Her gaze dipped to his full lips before meeting his deep green eyes. She pressed her lips against his, the kiss quickly moving from chaste and nervous to needy and passionate. She swung herself onto his lap and he groaned in response, tangling his hands in the back of her shirt. The shower stopped and they heard Sam shuffle around in the cramped bathroom.

River broke the kiss, running her fingers through his short hair then down along his stubble covered jaw. “This can’t get in the way…not again. We need a win, D.” The bathroom door opened and Sam stepped out as River slid off Dean’s lap. “I’m gonna get the rest of my stuff out of my car. Meet you outside in ten?” Sam shot his brother a silent but loaded look , eyebrows raised head tilted. Dean silently responded with an impermeable shrug of his shoulders.

They found River standing beside her car in front of Demian and Barnes, the cos-players, doing some sort of jumping, shaking, high pitched feminine dance of excitement, “Oh my god! I’m so happy for you guys!” Dean joined River as Sam was once again ambushed by Becky. 

“What’s the good news? You guys win the gift card?” Dean asked. 

“No. I mean yes they did,” River answered. She grabbed Demian’s hand and held it up to Dean’s face. A shiny dark grey metal band encircled the fourth finger on his left hand. “They’re engaged! You know they met on-line? On a “Supernatural” chatroom and now they’re getting married!” She went back to her happy dance and gave both men a big hug. “I expect a fucking invite when you tie the knot. I promise I won’t get plastered at the reception. I’ll act like a fuckin’ lady.” The happy couple told her they’d send her an RSVP once they chose a date. Then they climbed into their own shiny black 1967 Impala and drove away. River and Dean walked together towards the giant form of the younger Winchester.

“Becky what are you saying?” Sam had his hands on the diminutive woman’s shoulders to hold her at bay. Chuck, prophet of the Lord, stood silently next to the quivering blonde woman. 

“I’m saying that this….this undeniable chemistry between the two of us it’s just not gonna work. We’d be like gasoline and fire. Our love would burn us up,” Becky said passionately. “But Me and Chuck found each other. I’m the yin to his proud yang. The heart wants what it wants and I want Chuck.” River and Dean stood behind Becky with eyebrows raised.

River mouthed, “You want me to shoot her?” 

Sam shook his head distracted, “No. Becky. The other thing, you said something about The Colt!”

“Oh. Yeah, I was just saying at the end of chapter 33 in “Time is on my side” there was that British chick, Bela, the cat burglar remember?” Becky said. “She stole the Colt out of the wall safe in your room while River was having the snot beat out of her by that Shifter and you two were in Dreamland.”

“Yeah, Becky, we fucking remember Bela. What about the god damned Colt?” River snapped.

Becky glanced behind her, noticing Dean and River for the first time. “Well, River, if you had read the book you would have known that Bela lied about giving the Colt to Lilith. She gave it to Lilith’s right hand man, a demon named Crowley.”

Authors note: If I haven’t mentioned it in this story; Levi Stoltzfus is borrowed from Brian Keene’s Levi Stoltzfus series of supernatural horror books. Brian Keene is an amazing author and Levi is a badass. So go read a few or all of Mr. Keene’s books. And thank you to everyone who is reading, reviewing and following this series. It’s summer break and my husband is a teacher so he’s home and it’s the last summer before our son starts Kindergarten so time is pretty limited for me to write right now. But thank you for sticking with the story and I will continue to write and update as often as possible.


	47. Chapter 47

Ch 47

“What?” River yelled. “Don’t you think maybe you could’ve fucking mentioned that a little earlier, Chuck?”

The author jumped behind the diminutive yet fierce woman that had just proclaimed her love for him. Becky narrowed her eyes at River. “I didn’t…I didn’t remember! I swear. I was half drunk when I wrote those damn books. ”

“Crowley? Who is he?” Dean asked, he put a hand on Rivers arm to calm her. He felt his heart thundering in his chest. This could be a win. A big god damn win.

“There’s not much else in the book. Just his name and he had a funny accent...He was Lilith’s second in command and sometimes lover. That’s it. I just thought maybe it could help,” Becky answered. The hunters thanked Becky for the tip and nicely threatened Chuck with murder if he ever wrote anymore ‘Supernatural’ books. 

River slid into the back seat of the Impala and let out a deep sigh, eyes closing and hands running along the soft seat. “Missed you, Baby.” She murmured finding her perfect comfortable spot on the long bench seat. Dean watched her in the rearview mirror. They drove in silence for nearly an hour not wanting to spoil the budding feeling of hope that Becky’s information had provided. River’s ringing phone broke the stillness in the car and she jolted awake, patting the pockets of her many layers of clothing until she found the small phone. “It’s Bobby,” she said flipping the phone open, “Hey Papa Bear. Man, have we got news for you.”

“Yeah, well save it,” he replied. “You wanna tell me how you and Levi got yer’selves tangled up with someone like Harob?”

“Well, I didn’t go lookin’ for the asshole, Bobby,” she shot back. Her tone prickling at the gruff hunter. “You’re the one that sent me after Sam and Dean in the first god damn place.”

“What the hell you talkin’ about?”

“Louisiana, Bobby! Those raggedy ass swamp witches I obliterated. That was Harob’s coven. He called them his ‘wives’.”

“I have no god damn idea what you are talking about,” Bobby said bewildered.

River sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “Do you have dementia, old man? Do I need to find a home for you?”

“Will you two just-“ Dean muttered angrily reaching behind him and taking the cellphone out of Rivers hand and putting it on speaker, “Get on with it Bobby we aren’t growing any younger.”

Bobby huffed loudly on his end of the phone, “The little information I could glean from a demonic text I was able to scrounge up doesn’t paint a pretty picture of this Harob character.” Bobby paused and they heard papers rustling. “Apparently a few thousand years ago, after Lucifer was locked away, there was a big dust up down in the Pit. Different factions squabbling over who was to inherit the throne. A Demon by the name of Balom came out on top and deemed himself King of Hell. Well that apparently didn’t sit too fondly with Lucifers bottom bitch, Lilith.”

“Papa Bear, did you just correctly use the term ‘bottom bitch’?” River interjected.

“You’re not the only one that watches ‘Sons of Anarchy’. Speaking of which did you see this weeks episode? That Gemma is one dirty bitch.”

Before River could answer Dean cut them both off, “Bobby, focus!” 

“Right…Where was I… Lilith spent the next few centuries gathering her own forces. She attacked and Balom was executed in the melee. Lilith’s now the new Queen Bee down under. Balom’s forces either joined Lilith or scattered to the winds; including Balom’s second in command Harob. This demon, Harob, was a real son of a bitch. Feared by his own kind for his brutality and known to control a vast harem of witches that did his bidding topside.”

“This is all very Shakespearian, Bobby. What the hell’s the point?” River said from the backseat.

“When Balom fell, Harob’s control over his coven faltered. The witches splintered off, choosing to follow various other demons. Harob went into hiding in the deepest caves of Hell. For the last several hundred years he’s been gathering followers and trying to regain his strength to overthrow Lilith. He was mounting an offense against her and planning on stopping her from raising Lucifer,” Castiel said appearing next to River in the backseat. “Harob’s coven abducted Dean and Sam. They were planning on using them as sacrifices to free Harob from Hell so he could mount his counter attack against Lilith while her focus was elsewhere.”

“Why? Why use Sam and Dean? You guys would’ve just brought them back if the witches killed them, right? If I didn’t get there in time?”

Castiel shook his head, “The orders from my superiors were to not allow the Demons to know how involved they were in allowing the seals to fall. If the Winchesters had been sacrificed that would have been the end of Lilith’s campaign. For a few generations at least. My superiors put all their efforts behind driving Sam and Dean down their paths to Armageddon.”

“So you’re saying if Bobby hadn’t sent me after them-“

“I didn’t send you nowhere!” Bobby echoed over the phone.

“Bobby Singer is not the one that called you. It was me. I could not personally interfere so I sent you.” Cas said quietly turning to face River, “If Dean and more importantly, Sam, had been killed our hands would have been tied. Harob would have been raised and perhaps he would have been the one to kill Lilith.”

“Then what? Lilith was the last seal. It had to be Sam that killed her, in that exact fucking spot right? To break the final lock on the cage?” The angel nodded. “Sam going crack fiend? The fucking Apocalypse? Could’ve been stopped if I’d gotten a flat tire? Or been eaten by that Loup-garou?”

“I was under orders,” Castiel said.

River’s jaw tightened and she sat back heavily in the seat. “I am a heavenly fucking plot device.”

“Ok, but those bitches didn’t kill us. So how the fuck did Harob get out? And why go after River and Levi?” Dean asked Castiel.

Castiel tilted his head, considering. “When Lucifer broke free of the cage Hell gates all over the planet were weakened. He could have escaped from any of them.”

 

“I fucked Harob’s plans to gank Lilith and take over Hell. So now he’s fucking me and Levi.” River answered. “How do we find him? How do we find Levi?”

“We’ll summon him, trap him, beat the shit out of him until he tells us where Levi is,” Sam commented.

“Fine. Best play we’ve got. He wants me dead or fucking worse. I can summon him right now,” River said untying the stinking satchel on her belt loop. “I burn this and he’ll come running.”

Castiel snatched the bag out of her hand, “Is this all you have? Dried Lantana petals, a Gregorian charm and a horse tooth? Gabriel must have given you some sort of protection.”

“It’s gone. Everything is gone. I can’t even see your wings or your grace. Pretty sure you could read my mind now if you wanted to,” River said quietly.

Castiel’s lips drew into a thin line and he let out a deep sigh, “This may sting.”

“Wha- ah fuck!” River yelled. Castiel touched his fingers to River’s breast bone and it felt like a Mack truck smashed into her, immediately followed by the unpleasant sensation of burning along her rib cage. Just as quickly the sensation was gone and River struggled to draw in a deep breath. “What the shit Cas?”

“You are properly warded. Against Angels and Demons. Something my brother should have had the foresight to do for you,” the Angel replied sourly. 

“He did what he could. He couldn’t exactly sign his fucking name on my insides. It was risky enough for him,” River said rubbing her sore ribs. “If I’m warded against Demons now how the hell is Harob is gonna find me?”

“That’s kind of the point, sweetheart,” Dean told her. “And all we got the is the knife. We don’t even know if that’ll work against Harob and Cas’s is runnin’ on half empty. We go after the Colt and then we go after that asshat.”

“The Colt?!” Bobby, who’s voice echoed from River’s cellphone now laying forgotten on the seat between the Winchesters. 

“You have information on the Colt?” Castiel said sitting forward intently and leaning his face to close for comfort to Dean’s.

Dean shifted in his seat, “Yeah. The Colt. We got some semi reliable intel that a demon named Crowley was the last to have it. Not Lilith.”

“This is good news, Dean. I’ll find him.” Castiel said.

River grabbed his arm before he disappeared, “Will you just make sure your phone has minutes?” Castiel nodded and disappeared. “How long do you think it’ll take Cas to find this asshole?”

“Maybe a day or two,” Dean answered. 

“Harob’s already had Levi for almost three days. We can at least try the knife.”

“I’d feel better if we had The Colt, too.” Dean said meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror. “We don’t know what this guys capable of. If he’s anything like Alastair…” Dean shook his head and ended the conversation. River sat back in her seat defeated. Levi had been a close friend and source of calming strength to River in the months Dean had spent trapped in Hell. She felt an immediate connection to the quiet, strong willed Pow-Wow magician since he had healed her after the violent assault from the Shapeshifter that had stalked her for several years.

The trio drove for several more hours, waiting for word from Castiel. The Angel finally called in the late evening just as Dean was pulling off the road and into a gas station parking lot. “Dean, I’ve found him,” Castiel said in his quiet gravelly voice. “Crowley is making a deal. Even as we speak it’s…’going down’.” 

Dean couldn’t help the smile tugging at his mouth, “Going down? Alright, Huggy Bear. Just make sure you don’t lose him.” The deal Crowley was making was with a beleaguered big time douchey, Ponzi scheming son of a bitch banker. The deal drew to a close as Castiel watched and was sealed with a kiss form the demon Crowley. The demon disappeared from the vacant lot even as the flabby, sweaty banker ran back to his waiting limousine. Static screeched loudly in Dean’s ear as Cas flew after Crowley. The Angel landed a second later outside a sprawling mansion and cursed under his breath in Enochian. “I’ve found him. It’s not far but the building is covered with Enochian warding magic. I can’t get in.” Castiel relayed the address to Dean and the hunters piled back into the gassed up Impala. They arrived several hours later and scoped out the sprawling Hacienda style mansion from the woods. Armed demon guards patrolled the grounds, security cameras every few feet and a twelve foot high stone wall and iron gate surround the property.

“That place is locked down tighter than Fort Knox. How the hell are we supposed to get in there?” Dean muttered handing the binoculars to his brother. 

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “We climb the wall. Sneak past as many of the guards as we can, break the warding and Cas smites Crowley.”

“This isn’t just one sigil to break. The building is infused with warding, right Cas?” River asked. The Angel nodded in agreement. “It’s in the fucking brick and mortar of the place. Cas can’t get in. We’re going in alone and we won’t make it over that wall without being seen by at least one of the cameras.”

“Then what? Burrow under the wall?” Dean snapped. “The god damn Colt is in there! I know it is.”

“I got a plan.” She said after several moments of watching the guards on their rounds. “You’re not gonna like it.”

She was right. Dean did not like it. It made his guts cold and his palms sweaty. But is was the only plan they had. Dean drove them to a rest stop a few miles away from Crowley’s mansion so River could get ready. “You’re not going in alone.” Dean repeated for the thirtieth time. He, Sam and Castiel paced in the empty women’s restroom. They had propped a trashcan and an ‘out of order’ sign on the door to keep any intruders at bay. 

River nodded and checked her makeup one last time in the cracked mirror after slipping her dress over her head. “Zip me up,” she said turning towards Dean. He blew a long, angry breath out of his nose and stalked over to her. The ‘dress’ was covered in shimmery silver sequence that reflected the dull halogen lights in the bathroom and barely long enough to cover the demon knife she had strapped to her upper thigh. The zipper was basically just for show as the dress could easily fall to the floor if River slipped the thin straps off her shoulders. Dean pulled the tiny ridiculous zipper up, trying not to focus on River’s lack of appropriate demon fighting under garments. “I am. Because it’s the only way those assholes are going to open the gate and the only way I can get to that control panel and turn the security cameras off. Then you two jolly giants can follow me in.” She turned around to face Dean and the other two men. “I’ll run if I need to. See: no high heels.” River pointed to her black Chuck Taylor clad feet.

“Don’t you think the shoes kind of throw off the whole outfit?” Sam asked.

“Trust me. They aren’t going to be looking at my feet.” She replied. “Let’s get our boogie on. Moonlights a wastin’.” She patted Dean’s chest reassuringly and led them back towards the waiting car. Dean parked the Impala a quarter of a mile away from Crowley’s mansion. Dean had decided to give River three minutes to gank the two demons at the front gate and disable the security cameras before he and Sam would follow. River took a deep breath and smiled nervously at the brothers. Cas had disappeared somewhere outside to monitor the perimeter of the mansion. “See you in three minutes.” She squeezed Dean’s hand quickly before walking away into the darkness. Dean glanced at his wrist watch and watched as the seconds ticked by painfully slow.

River ran to the iron gate and pressed the call button, “Hello?”

“What do you want?” a hollow voice answered.

“Oh thank goodness! I need help! I blew a tire and my car’s in a ditch down the road.” She said frantically. Two suit clad men appeared from the guard house as the gate swung open. River smiled widely and walked through the gate, “Thank you so much! I really thought I was in trouble there.”

“What would a pretty thing like you be doin’ out here all by yourself?” One of the men asked.

“I have a hen party I was headed to. My BFF from my college sorority is getting married. I really need get a tow truck out here like now,” she said.

“We got a better party inside. You and that plump ass of yours just made the VIP list.” The first demon guard sneered. 

“Just gotta make sure you don’t have any surprises under that dress.” The second man walked behind her, resting his hands on her hips. The stench of sulfur was overpowering and River struggled to keep her features calm. He bent down and ran his cold hands up her thighs. His fingertips found the edge of the hidden knife. The demons eyes widened. “The hell is that?” he muttered.

“That? Oh that’s just my demon killing knife,” River said smiling. The knife was in her hand and imbedded to the hilt in the kneeling demons throat before his partners eyes shifted to black. The remaining demon lunged for her and River struck him in the chest with the knife in quick, short prison yard stabs. The demon gurgled, sickly orange light flashing as it died. She stepped over the dead bodies and ran into the guard tower. A few button mashing and wire cutting seconds later the security cameras and power to the mansion were off. Dean and Sam were at the doorway to the guard house by the time she turned around.

“You ok?” Dean asked looking at her arms, legs and shiny dress that was now splashed in dark red blood.

“Five by five, hot stuff.” She answered handing him the knife. 

“Wait for us at the car with Cas.” Dean told her tucking the bloody knife into his belt loop.

River snorted, “Uh no. Let’s go waterboard this asshole.” The front door was unlocked and the three hunters entered the dark halls. They spent the next several minutes silently drawing salt lines and various demon traps along the floor and under rugs.

“Well, well, well The Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew finally found me,” a dark figure called out in a gentle Scottish brogue. He stopped a dozen feet from the waiting hunters. They raised their guns and waited. “Took you long enough.”

“Gabh Transna Ort Fhéin, ya prick!,” River yelled ‘Go fuck yourself sideways’ in Gaelic at the shadowed figure.

Crowley laughed, “Ohhh I do love a woman that speaks the old language. And such a filthy mouth.” He took a step towards them, the hunters adjusted the groups on their guns. Crowley used the toe of his expensive Italian loafer to kick the edge of the Oriental rug at his feet. He scowled at the paint marring the back of the rug. “Do you have any idea how expensive these are?” Crowley stepped around the rug. “Tell me, love. Where do you hail from?”

“Clan McGregor, arsehole,” River answered.

The demon laughed again, “I should’ve figured.”

“Crowley doesn’t sound very fitting for a Scotsman. What’s your real name?” She asked.

The demon shook his head, “I like a woman that can curse like an old Scot bastard, love. But not that much.” Two more demons appeared behind Sam and Dean grabbing the men around the throats and bending their arms back. The shotguns clattered to the floor as the brothers grunted in pain. Crowley curled his index finger in a ‘come hither’ motion and River was pulled across the room, sliding across the carpet like she was on ice skates, into his waiting arms. He wrapped one arm tightly around her chest so that she faced the trapped Winchesters. With his free hand Crowley produced the Colt from the folds of his jacket. “This is what you’re after. Isn’t it?” River’s eyes darted up tracking the gun as Crowley placed the barrel against her temple. He cocked the pistol and River met Dean’s dark eyes.

“You smell kind of like my grandma. She had an affinity for Haggis and cheap whiskey,” River snarked struggling uselessly against Crowleys arm.

“I never drink cheap whiskey, love.” Crowley purred before aiming the pistol at Dean. The hunter took a deep breath. The gun went off like a cannon next to River’s ear. The demon behind Dean dropped dead, followed by the one holding onto Sam. Crowley released her and River stumbled several steps holding her hand against her ringing ear. Dean caught her and pushed her behind him and Sam. “We need to talk. Privately.” The demon turned and walked back down the dark hallway he had come from. The hunters shared a look and followed the demon; Dean’s hand latched onto River’s. “Do you have any idea how deep I could’ve buried this thing?” Crowley told them as he poured four tumblers of whiskey. “The only reason you are here, the only reason you’ve made it this far is because I wanted you here.” He took one of the glasses of whiskey and sat in a large leather chair behind an ornate desk. River and Dean each picked up a glass of whiskey and watched the demon warily.

“Why the hell would you want us here?” Sam asked.

Crowley smiled, “Because I want to give you the gun. And I want you to empty it in Lucifer’s face.”

“And why exactly would you want us to do that?” Dean asked.

Crowley sighed dramatically, “Survival. Survival for me and my kind. Mostly Me.”

“How would giving us the gun that could kill you going to help your survival?” River asked.

“You are a bit thick, aren’t you?” Crowley said taking a sip of his whiskey. River couldn’t help the smirk that pulled the at the corners of her mouth. Crowley was a flamboyant, snarky asshole. He set the Colt onto the desk in front of him. “In case you’ve forgotten. Lucifer is not a demon. He is an Angel. And my experience with the majority of Angels is that they despise humans. But do you know what they dislike even more? Demons.” He waived his manicured hand at himself. “Behind every dapper demon is the shell of former humanity.”

“But Lucifer created you,” Sam said.

Crowley nodded, “To prove to God and the other Angels that humans were weak and easily corrupted. He created us to be his servants. To be his cannon fodder.” The humans remained silent, each ruminating on Crowleys claims. “Look lets put this in terms you three can understand, I’ll help you and you will kill that genocidal megalomaniac before he has the chance to annihilate both our kind. Then we all go back to our baser instincts. I’m in sales for goodness sakes! I never wanted any part of this nonsense Lilith was obsessed with.” The demon picked up the Colt and held it handle first out to Sam. The taller hunter looked at his brother and River, they both gave a slight nod. 

“Okay,” Sam said taking the Colt from the Demon and tucking it into his jacket. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the Devil is, would you?”

Crowley smiled, “A little birdie told me has an appointment this Thursday in Carthage, Missouri.”

“Sláinte mhaith (good health),” River said raising her glass and smiling at Crowley.

The Demon responded, “Slàinte agad-sa (and to yours).” They each took a sip of the amber liquid.

Dean couldn’t help the “Wow” that escaped his lips as the smoky alcohol hit his tastebuds. “What happens to you after we ice the Devil? Aren’t you gonna be a marked man?”

“Well after you three leave I’m going on an extended vacation to all points nowhere,” Crowley answered. “So do us all a favor and don’t miss morons! Ah yes, before I forget you’ll need more ammo.” He reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a large leather pouch. He tossed the pouch at Dean and disappeared. At least two dozen solid silver bullets met his gaze when he opened the bag. 

River ran her finger reverently along the cold metal, “One of those is for Harob.” Dean nodded and tucked the bundle into his jacket. River grabbed the mostly full crystal decanter of Crowley’s whiskey on their way out of the mansion. They walked quickly back to the Impala where Castiel was waiting.

“Did he have it?” The Angel asked. Sam responded with pulling the gun out and showing it to him. Castiel nodded.

“Lucifer will be in Carthage, Missouri on Thursday.” Dean told him as the group piled back into Impala. 

River picked some clean clothes out of her duffle bag, kicked off her shoes and said, “Everyone who’s not driving close your eyes so I can put some decent clothes on. Dress this tight I’m not exactly wearing any under things.” Sam complied and even covered his eyes with his hands. Castiel squinted unsure then copied Sam. River pulled the ruined dress off over her head then shimmied into her underwear and leggings catching Dean staring at her in the rearview mirror. She gave him a quick wink as she pulled her shirt on. “Alright I’m decent. We have the Colt, it’s time to summon Harob and find Levi. Then we’ll still have plenty of time to strategize our next play.”

“Let’s get to Bobby’s. We’ll demon proof the barn and summon the son of a bitch there,” Sam said.

“Yeah, alright. Riv, drop Bobby a line. Let him know where we stand and what we’re planning. Maybe he can scrounge up a couple more hands to help out.” Dean said. They arrived at The Singer Salvage yard by early morning. Bobby was waiting for them at the top of the wheelchair ramp. River’s face breaking with each step towards the man stuck in the wheelchair.

“Don’t you dare cry,” he warned. She didn’t listen and fell to her knees in front of him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. The gruff old hunters bottom lip quivered as he patted that back of her head. “It’s all right now, sweetheart. It’s all right. I’m damn happy to see you.”

She sat back on her heels and wiped her face, “I’m sorry. I should’ve come.”

“You’re here now. Jo and and Ellen’ll be here tonight. I got the stuff you need to summon that demon bastard in the kitchen. Come caffeinate then have at it,” he said wheeling himself back into the house. The hunters did just that enjoying Bobby’s much needed hot, gut rot liquid energy as Castiel stood awkwardly holding his up of coffee and taking small grimacing sips. 

They finished the summoning and binding sigils less than an hour later. “I don’t like what he starts spouting and I’m putting a bullet between his eyes.” Dean said.

“Not before he tells us about Levi,” River told him. She stood in front of a small table they had used for the summoning altar and started reciting the spell. The last part of the spell required a blood sacrifice and she cut into the pale skin of her forearm, letting her blood drip onto the table as she beseeched Harob. The flames flickered. They waited for several silent minutes. 

“Maybe he’s on another call?” Dean muttered sarcastically. River ‘shushed’ him and restarted the spell, slicing her arm again to offer more blood. “River enough! He isn’t coming!” Dean yelled as she started the spell for a third time.

“No. He has to come, god damn it!” She held the knife to her arm again and Dean had to wrestle it out of her hands. She screamed in frustration, “Son of a bitch! Come and get me!” The candles flickered then burned out but the demon still refused to show. She kicked the table in a rage sending the candles and other ingredients scattering around the dirt floor of the barn. “Fuck it!” she yelled. Dean, Sam, and Castiel stood silently and she picked up the table by its upturned legs, smashed it to pieces on the ground then kicked the barn door open and stomped angrily back to Bobby’s house. Castiel disappeared from the barn with a flap of his wings and the Winchesters followed River’s path. They found Castiel standing next to River at the kitchen sink where she was washing the cuts on her arm. The Angel murmured something to her in Enochian and she shook her head answering in English, “No it’s not ok Cas. I got my friend killed.” She looked over Castiel’s shoulder at Sam and Dean. “I figure odds are we’re all going to die in a blaze of glory tomorrow so I want peanut butter banana pie as my last meal. What do you two want?,” Dean wanted blueberry pie, Sam wanted fried chicken and mashed potatoes. River gave Castiel a shopping list including a hefty order of alcohol and the Angel disappeared again glad to have an errand to run. He came and went several times, laden with packages and bottles until each item had meticulously been acquired. 

Sam quickly put together a playlist of everyones favorite bands, even getting Jo and Ellens request in the mix as soon as they arrived. Dean hovered incessantly while River worked on his pie and Ellen and Jo got to work making their famous Harvelle fried chicken. The booze flowed and the food was thoroughly enjoyed by all. ‘Friends in Low Places’ started playing on the stereo and Bobby started singing along loud and out of tune. River grabbed his hands and the two started dancing, Bobby rolling around as River shimmied alongside him. “This song was playing at the bar in Ontario after we finished that Skinwalker case….Oh my god, do remember Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum?” Jo suddenly asked River.

River nodded smiling, “The Canadian Tuxedo wearing bull riders that were dumber than a box of rocks. How can I forget?”

“Oh come on you sat at the bar moping to Tweedle Dum for like 45 minutes: ‘Look here’s me and Dean in the Impala, here’s me and Dean eating pie, here’s me and Dean in front of some creepy mausoleum blah blah blah…” Jo laughed.

River blushed, shooting Dean a quick shy glance. “First off, You had Tweedle Dum on the dance floor. I was talking with Tweedle Dee and it was not 45 minutes it was maybe 15 and Second, I don’t fucking mope. I’m a grown ass woman not a 13 year old girl pining over a Backstreet boy.”

Ellen laughed, “That poor guy sat there listening to you ball into your glass of beer. You could see the hope drain from his face when he realized you weren’t gonna give him any.”

“Well, I was just brought back from the dead like a month before and things we’re still a little raw…” River huffed, “Don’t feel too bad for him. He found someone to give him something because he disappeared just about the same time Jo and Tweedle Dum vamoosed back to the motel and you went MIA.”

“Well, you weren’t gonna do anything with that cowboy and I wasn’t gonna let an ass like that go to waste,” Ellen answered. River and Jo both laughed hysterically as the men in the room shook their heads.

“Just tell me he at least lasted more than 8 seconds,” River said through laughs. 

“He sure as shit did,” Ellen answered taking a long drink from her beer.

“Oh god, mother,” Jo whined, blushing at her mothers antics. 

The night was punctuated with Jo and River competing in a hand stand contest (River won), Ellen for some reason thinking it was a good idea to have a drinking competition with Cas and a group photo that Bobby demanded. The flash on Bobby’s camera went off and the heaviness behind the photo hung in the air. Bobby would be the only one not going with them to face Lucifer in person for obvious reasons. For the rest of them they knew this was possibly the last picture they would ever take, they last time they would gather with friends and family and perhaps their last night alive. The revelry drew to a quiet, natural close sometime after midnight. Dean and Cas sitting at one of Bobby’s cluttered desks talking quietly. Bobby fell asleep snoring in his favorite chair in the library. River helped a very drunk Ellen up the stairs and into Bobby’s old room, the older woman asleep the moment River pulled her boots off and covered her with a warm old quilt. Jo and Sam passed River on her way back downstairs. The women high fived as Jo followed Sam into his room. The taller hunter blushing furiously as he shut the door behind them. River walked back into the warm kitchen and procured the crystal decanter of whiskey she had stolen then hidden under Bobby’s sink. She poured two fingers of whiskey into two glasses and walked across the kitchen to Dean and Cas. She gave Cas a kiss on cheek murmuring “Goodnight Angel” in his ear, set the second glass of whiskey down in front of Dean and walked out the back door to the junkyard behind the house. 

Dean worried his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment, “ ‘night Cas” and followed River out the backdoor. He found her leaning against the Impala sipping the whiskey. She smiled at him and set the empty glass down on the hood next to her. “So you moped?” he asked her taking a long swallow from his own glass and standing in front of her.

She smiled and blushed again her cheeks and chest pink even in the moonlight, “I don’t mope. I might be emotionally unstable at times and I cry a lot but then I put my big girl panties and get on with life.”

Dean finished his whiskey and set his empty glass next to hers. “Are you wearing your big girl panties now?” He wrapped his big hands around her hips snaking his thumbs between the fabric of of her jeans and underwear.

River couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped her lips, “You’re so fucking cheesy Winchester.” 

Dean smiled pressing his body in closer to hers. “Come on, you love it,” he murmured against her ear. He let his warm lips trail along the curve of her ear and down her neck causing a shiver to run through her and a small moan to escape her parted lips.The feather lite kisses continued along the exposed skin of her collarbones and up the opposite side of her throat. “You still my girl?” He asked. His lips hovering millimeters from hers, his warm breath tickling her nose causing River to look up at him through half closed eyes.

“Yes,” she smiled wrapping her hands around his head to bring his lips to hers. The kiss started gentle, her lips parting tentatively as Dean faintly ran his tongue over her bottom lip. Darting his tongue inside as she gasped when one muscular thigh nudged her legs apart. She tasted the smokey hints of whiskey and the sweetness of the blueberry pie on his warm, moist tongue. Dean pressed into her further, wrapping his hands under her thighs and lifting her effortlessly onto the hood next to their discarded glasses. River wound her legs around his hips and smiled against his lips at the feel of the growing bulge in his jeans. 

“I miss you,” he murmured grinding his hard-on against her. She finally pulled back to take a breath, head spinning, body aching from his touch. Dean took the opportunity to move his attention back to her neck and every other piece of sensitive flesh he could get to through her Henley, pulling at the flimsy buttons on the front to suck a dark mark at the swell of each breast. Her head fell back and her fingers ran through his hair as she shifted her hips against his; needing friction on the growing throb between her legs. He groaned into her chest bringing his lips back to hers, biting her lower lip gently as his hands moved to massage and caress the soft mounds hidden under her layers of clothing. 

River pulled back again from his touch, seeing green eyes almost completely hidden behind lust blown pupils. “I don’t want to fuck this up again,” she told him quietly. 

“I don’t either. I want you. I want Us,” Dean answered. 

“I want us too. How do we get back to being us?”

Dean shrugged, scratched the stubble on his chin, “Make up sex? Lots and lots of make up sex.” She smiled, running her teeth over her kiss swollen lips. “Or… we can go inside. Joe Bob Briggs is having a monster movie marathon.” 

Her blues eyes roamed over his face, the faint splash of freckles across his nose and cheeks he was self conscious about, the stubble on his cheeks he would no doubt shave off in the morning and those sinful lips that had given her both pleasure and pain. “Joe Bob Briggs, really? I though that guy was dead….You think Bobby has any popcorn?” she said smirking. She slid off the hood of the car, pushing Dean away so she could get by him. For a split second he thought she was going to walk up the winding path strewn with rusted cars back to Bobby’s. Instead she opened the back drivers side door of the Impala and called over her shoulder, “It’s our last night on Earth, again. Third times the charm, right?” She climbed in and slid to the far side of the bench seat and yelled, “You coming?” 

Dean didn’t need to be asked twice. He was in the backseat, the door closed behind him and pulling her towards him before she could get both her Converse hi-tops off. He pressed his firm body into hers again, shimmying out of his jacket and pulling his shirts off over his head tossing them somewhere towards the front seat. His lips were back on hers, no longer gentle and asking permission but hungry and demanding. His hands where everywhere unbuttoning and pulling at clothes, pieces of discarded fabric being dropped on the floorboard. Satisfied that he’d gotten the majority of her clothing removed Dean pushed her down into the seat where she lay on her back squeezing her thighs together for some relief against the growing need at her core. He kicked his boots off and pulled his jeans gingerly over his rock-hard member, sighing at the relief from the constricting denim. His cock stood firm and full against his stomach as he pulled Rivers thighs apart and settled his body on top of hers. She gasped “Fuck,” as he circled his hips against hers, the head of his cock brushing along the wet fabric of her underwear.

“God you’re so beautiful,” he whispered brushing his lips against the sensitive skin on her ear. His hands constantly roaming, changing the intensity and pressure of each touch from feather lite to harsh squeezes keeping her nerves on fire, never knowing where his hands would land next. The whole time circling and grinding his hips against her. One of his hands finally slipped behind her unclasping her bra and pulling it down her shoulders, Dean allowing her to only sit up enough to get it off before he pressed her back into the seat. Her hands trailed up and down the firm muscles of his back, finger nails digging in and hips jolting when ever his touches sent a flash of heat between her legs. “You’re my girl,” he murmured lips trailing down her neck, to the valley between her breasts his hand kneading the full mound of her right breast while his tongue darted over the peaked rosy bud of her left nipple. Her breathing becoming shallow pants. A low keen escaped her lips as Deans lips and hands moved lower, ghosting over her ribs, nipping at the curve of one hip making her shiver. He was making her a writhing, flushed mess and he knew it. Her soft thighs flexed around his shoulders, hands curling, nails pressing into her palms as Dean languidly rubbed his stubble covered cheek against the supple skin of her inner thigh, his warm breath inches from her throbbing core. He turned his head towards her other thigh, bumping the swollen bud of her clit through her BatGirl underwear with his nose causing River to sigh, “Please, D please”. 

The sounds escaping her lips sent a jolt straight to his rigid member, he felt it twitch against his stomach. Enough teasing he needed to be inside her now before they caught the Impala on fire from the palpable heat rolling off of them. Dean ran his fingers along the elastic band of her panties. River sat up on her elbows raising her hips to help him get her underwear off. His eyes locked on the bright sunflowers she had tattooed on her hip as a memorial to their sons. He placed a delicate kiss on each flower and she took a shuddering breath. Her body continued to shake under his touch and Deans eyes slowly trailed back up her body wanting to see the look of need on her face. Instead she had her hands pressed into her eyes as she fought back tears. “Shit, Baby, what did I do?” Dean said hoarsely. 

River shook her head, “Nothing. I’m sorry…I don’t want this to be our last time together.”

He positioned himself over her, gently pulling her hands away from her face. Her blue eyes were heavy with fear and worry. “Sweetheart, it’s not. We’re gonna win. We’re gonna beat him. Tomorrow.” 

“It feels like….” she chewed her bottom lip searching for the words. “It feels like the night your deal was up and we’re going into a fight we can’t win. I can’t lose you again. Not like that.”

“You’re not going to lose me. We’re gonna win,” he repeated kissing her gently on the lips. She ran her hands through his hair, pulling him closer. 

“Can we….can you just hold me for a while?” Her face flushed. “I’m sorry. That sounds so cheesy,” she said shaking her head. “I just want you to lay here with me and talk. We haven’t talked in so long.” 

“Yeah, ok. Of course, sweetheart.” He smiled down at her and she let out a grateful breath shifting herself over on the seat and turning so Dean could jostle himself between her and the back of the seat. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, his head resting on the top of her head, their legs tangled together. “Just ignore Little Dean. He’ll go to sleep in a few minutes.” 

River snorted laughter into his chest, looking up to catch his lips in another kiss. “So, Sam and Jo? That’s gonna be an interesting ride tomorrow morning.”

“Sam doesn’t kiss and tell,” Dean smiled bringing one of her hands to lips and kissing her palm. He noticed for the first time a shiny, jagged scar that marred the pale skin.

“No, but Jo does.” River laughed again.

He ran his thumb over the raised scar, “Where’d you get this?”

“The night we were trying to stop Sam. I ran from Chuck’s house after Cas shazzamed you away,” she started. “I fell on some broken beer bottles, sliced my hand up. Gabriel zapped me to Zombieville. That stupid fucking cut almost killed me. It got so infected, I had these gnarly red streaks up my arm, fever was so high I was hallucinating. I just kept thinking after everything this is how I’m gonna die.”

Dean kissed her palm again, “What happened?” 

River shifted against him so they could look each other in the eyes. “I found a vet office that wasn’t too picked over. That’s where I met Delilah.” She paused embarrassed. “She was scavenging for supplies. She helped me, got me the meds I needed. I would’ve died without her, I mean…I don’t know if Gabe really would’ve let me die. I pissed him off pretty good.”

“Yeah, about that. You never told me you were into girls. That’s pretty hot,” Dean told her.

River rolled her eyes, blushing again. “I’m not. I was into Delilah…she was cute and funny. She saved my life. I’m into you, Winchester.” 

“Still can’t wrap my head around that either. I’ve got nothing to offer you except barely contained alcoholism and a short life chock full of shit,” Dean murmured tiredly. 

River sat up on her elbow, “You know that’s not true, right?” She shook her head. “You deserve to be happy, Dean. Everything you do for everyone else. For the fucking world. You deserve so much more.” Dean closed his eyes. “You make bad choices, I’ll give you that. And you’re a big jerk sometimes.”

He opened one eye and looked at her, “Are you trying to make me feel better or worse? I can’t tell anymore.”

“Look whatever happens tomorrow or the day after or the day after that…I just want you to know that you are so much more. Even if you can’t see it, I see it, Sam sees it, Bobby, Cas, God if he really is out there, sees it. You’re the only one that can’t.” She ran her hands along his jaw and pulled his face towards her, their lips meeting gently again.

“We should go get everyone up,” Dean finally said. Neither of them had slept, they’d spent their third ‘last night’ not making love or fucking but letting the hours to dawn slip by as they talked quietly. Dean told her about the weird ass cases he and his brother had run into over the last weeks and months. River nodded against his chest, finger running along the scar on his rib cage that he’d got after a tussle with a poltergeist and let out a deep breath as they untangled from each other. 

“One of these ‘last nights’ we’re going to actually have to spend it screwing,” River finally said as she laced up her black shoes. Dean smiled and kissed her before they headed back into Bobby’s house. Jo and Sam already sat at the table drinking coffee, Ellen was shuffling down the stairs, Bobby was staring pensively a spot on the wall and Cas rolled his shoulders no doubt nervously flexing his invisible wings. 

“Well, lets go kill the Devil.” Dean told them. No one came out and actually said ‘Goodbye’ to Bobby but they each held the man a fraction of second longer before leaving. Dean, Sam and Cas walked towards the black Impala as River veered the opposite direction with Ellen and Jo towards their Dodge truck. Dean shot her a look, eyebrows raised.

“Me and Jo have things to talk about,” River said answering his silent question. The visible portion of Sam’s earlobes turned crimson before the taller hunter climbed wordlessly into the front seat of the Impala. 

“See you in Carthage,” Ellen yelled out her window as she pulled her truck away from Bobby’s home.


	48. Chapter 48

Ch 48

“Like how bossy?” River asked from the backseat of the Harvelles truck. Her window down and EMF detector dangling in her hand. The Impala inched along ahead of them, the Winchesters with their own long arms hanging out searching for cell signals or spikes in radio frequencies. The trucks radio had frizzed out a few miles outside of town followed by their phones. Castiel had taken to popping in and out between the vehicles acting as messenger after the phones died.

Jo turned the knob on the radio again only getting bursts of static. “Bossy-bossy. But in a good way. A really good way…the hells going on with the damn radio?” she muttered spinning the dial. 

River snorted, adjusted the setting on her EMF detector and frowned at the reading. “I just don’t see Sammy as a Mr. Grey type. The guy has a hard time deciding on what to order for dinner when we go out.”

Ellen sighed and shook her head, “Your daddy’d whoop your ass if he found out you’d knocked boots with one of the Winchester boys.”

Castiel appeared next to River interrupting the women’s conversation. “Where is everyone, Cas?” she asked. The caravan had driven several blocks into town not seeing any signs of life, human or otherwise. The traffic lights flashing on empty streets. Office buildings and grocery stores dark; parking lots and an elementary school playground noticeably silent and deserted. 

“I’m not sure. Sam and Dean are going to check out the Police Department. They want you three to start checking the town.” The Angel answered. He turned away from River and looked down an empty street. “Stop the car.” Ellen pulled the truck over as he requested. The hunters climbed out of the truck, slinging duffle bags across shoulders and gripping their guns. Castiel sat in the car a moment longer, continuing to stare down the empty street.

“Cassie, you gonna join us?” River called to the Angel. She blinked and he was on the street next to her. His brow furrowed and steel blue eyes tracing the street.

“This town is not empty.” The Angel murmured.

River gripped the wood handle of her shotgun trying to suppress a shiver threatening to run down her spine, “What do you see?”

“Reapers.” He answered turning to face her and the other two women.

Ellen blinked several times, “I’m sorry. Did you say ‘reapers’? As in there’s more than one?”

Castiel nodded. With his Angelic senses he could see the dozens of silent, pale figures dotting the streets and standing atop the brick buildings. They appeared to be converged near an abandoned and boarded up movie theater near the town center. “Yes. They’re everywhere. They only gather like this in times of great turmoil, Pompeii, The Chicago Fire, Nagasaki….I’m sorry. I must find out why they are here. You need to look for the town residents.” The trench coated Angel told them before walking away. The Reapers stood silent, not so much as blinking as he passed by. 

River faced Jo and Ellen, “So anyone else feel like we’re totally screwed?” Jo raised her hand. “Alright. I say we start at the Church on first and move East to West. The P.D. is a couple blocks over from here. That’s were we’ll meet up with Dean and Sam.” Ellen nodded and the three hunters walked towards the steepled building. The searched the church and the surrounding neighborhood, finding nothing out of sorts except that everything was completely abandoned. There were no people, no hints or traces of the inhabitants of the town. Not even any pets in the quiet houses or birds chirping in the trees. They made it to the Police Department as the brothers were exiting the glass doors at the front.

“Departments empty. Nada,” Dean said as the women met up with him and his brother.

River nodded, “So’s everywhere else. Deserted. I guess except for all the Reapers.”

“Reapers?” Dean repeated. 

“Cas said he saw Reapers. Lots of them. He went to go check them out. He’s been gone about an hour. Or I think it’s been an hour. My watch stopped working.” River said glancing at her wrist watch. Dean and Sam checked their timepieces also and noticed they had stopped as well. 

Dean muttered, “Shit.” He looked worriedly at his brother, “How come I get the feeling we’re hand delivering you to Satan?” 

Sam’s jaw tightened. “Where was the last place you saw Cas?”

“Down town. Back by the old theater.” Jo answered. 

The group headed down the empty street towards the movie theater. “We’re in town less than an hour and we already lost the Angel.” Dean muttered quietly to River and Sam.

“You think Lucifer nabbed him?” River asked, her eyes tracing back and forth along the empty brick buildings and storefronts. 

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe Lucifer isn’t even here. And we’re just dealing with a bunch of douchebag demons.” The group rounded a corner and came face to face with a young woman with long dark brown hair.

“Well, nice to see you’re enjoying the sights,” she called across the empty street. The hunters stopped in their tracks and stared at the stranger. 

“Meg!” Sam yelled at the woman. 

She smiled and nodded, “I’d love to catch up but my father wants to see you.”

“Screw you,” River said. “We’re not going anywhere with you.”

Meg shifted her weight on her high heeled boots, wrapped one hand around her hip and sighed. “You can make this easy and come with me. Or you can make this difficult.”

Dean smiled stepping to the front of the group and raised the Colt at Meg. “Come on, Meg. When have you known us to ever make things easy?”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Meg whistled once through her dark red lips. Snarls and growls erupted around the street. Invisible paws splashed in puddles, puffs of putrid breath wafted towards the hunters. “Hell Hounds. I heard they were you’re favorite, Dean-o.” River, Jo and Ellen raised their shotguns aiming in the general direction of where they saw shimmers in the air. Dean’s throat constricted, he could feel his testicles shrivel up and a pool of sweat suddenly soaked his armpits as several of the Hounds snarled low and dangerous. A few of the invisible beasts taking menacing steps towards them causing splashes and ripples in the rain puddles. He looked over his shoulder, searching his brothers face before turning his eyes on River. She gave him a slight nod.

“You heard the lady. Screw you.” He fired the Colt and struck the devil dog closes to Meg. Dark red blood splattered the demons jeans and boots and the hound howled in pain. The hunters turned and fled down an adjoining street. The Hell Hounds close behind. Invisible jaws snapped inches from Rivers boot steering her away from Sam and across the empty street. Dean was in the rear of the group trying to keep any more of the hounds from flanking them. He stumbled and fell to his knees with a grunt.

Jo screamed, “Dean!” Firing her shotgun into one of the beasts knocking it away from Dean.

River skidded to a halt and ran back towards them, “Jo! No!” But she was too late. One of the Hell Hounds pounced on the thin blonde woman, invisible claws tearing into her abdomen. Jo let out a pained scream; Ellen charged towards her daughter firing into the beast that was mauling her. Dean scrambled to his feet and scooped up Jo’s weak, bleeding body. Snarls and growls stopped River mid-run and she swung her shotgun blindly in front of her. Her eyes darted up and across the street where the rest of her group was running, being ushered into a storefront by Sam. Dean turned around, looking frantically for her. Their eyes met briefly before one the demon dogs nipped at the barrel of her shotgun trying to wrench it out of her sweaty hands. She pulled the trigger on the shotgun knocking away the monster closest to her.

“RIVER!” Dean yelled as she turned and took off down another street, her red hair flying behind her as she whipped around a corner and out of sight. Sam pulled him and Jo inside the building and slammed the door closed. He quickly dumped a bag of salt along the door and under the windows facing the street. They could hear the Hell Hounds baying and snuffling at the door, searching for a way inside. Dean gently sat Jo down in front of the cash register. His shirt soaked in her blood. 

Ellen collapsed onto her knees in front of her daughter, “Joanna Beth, what have they done to you?”

“It’s gonna be ok, mama.” Jo replied weakly. Sam searched the small shop for first aid supplies as Dean gingerly inspected her wounds. The blood bubbling up from the deep ragged furrows, Jo’s pale, sweaty face and the mess that used to be her abdomen were all he needed to see. She wasn’t going to make it. Dean moved out of the way when Sam returned with the makeshift dressing supplies, a bag of sanitary pads and some nylon stockings to hold them in place. “Where’s-where’s River?” Jo hissed as Sam tied a stocking and several pads around her midsection to try and slow her blood loss. Sam looked over his shoulder at his brother.

Dean ran one hand around his jaw, “She’s ok. She ran…she’s ok.” He turned back towards the windows of the shop. The outline of Meg, her long dark hair and pale features were just visible through the frosted glass. 

Sam stood and walked towards his brother. Dean was picking items off the store shelves, not actually seeing the things he touched but needing to move. “Dean-we gotta figure some way outta this town man.” Sam told him. 

Dean let his hand rest on an box of nails and shook his head. “You heard Meg, Lucifer is here. We have to find him and we have to take our shot. We don’t know when we’re gonna get another chance.” His green eyes focused and he let them trail over the shelves around him, “Propane tanks. Batteries. Copper wire. Nails….Everything we need for couple of nice and dirty fragment bombs. Toast the Hell Hound bitches out there. Give us a few minutes to maybe make a run for it.”

“I ain’t exactly in the shape to walk outta here,” Jo muttered.

“Then we’ll carry you,” Sam replied.

Jo laughed weakly, “No. No, Sam you won’t. I’m not going anywhere.” Ellen took a deep breath through her nose, her bottom lip trembling so hard she bit into it to stop the sob threatening to bust through.

“Jo-“

“No, mama. We don’t all gotta die today.” She took her mothers hand and squeezed it. The tears started and Ellen kissed her dying daughters forehead.

A large blue metal post office box was knocked off its legs as one of the Hell Hounds slammed into it, skidding around the corner mere feet from where River was running. She jumped out of the way of the tumbling metal, changed her angle and ran towards the opposite side of the street. Once again stopped in her tracks when one of the beasts jumped onto a parked car and flattened the hood. She raised her shotgun and fired into the center of where she guessed the Hell Hound was standing. The demon dog let out a high pitched whine and was thrown back into the windshield causing it to spiderweb and shatter. Putrid breath and growls were at her heels as she ran down another street. She flicked her shotgun open and tossed the empty shells behind her, reached into her jacket pocket for extra shells and almost ran into a dumpster. The street dead ended into a high brick wall, flanked on either side with empty buildings. She spun on her heels, slamming the salt filled shells into the shotgun and snapped it closed. Heavy paws splashed into a puddle behind her and she turned back towards the only way out of the alley. Two distinct growls echoed, two sets of paws slapped on the wet cement towards her. A deafening thud, crack of metal and a third snarl signaled the arrival of another Hell Hound landing on top of the dumpster effectively trapping her. 

“Fuck you!” she screamed firing into the Hell Hound standing on the dumpster. Her eyes fell on a dark green door, hidden in shadows behind the dumpster at the far end of the alley. She ran towards it, hurtling her body at the wooden frame and using all her strength to slam through the warped hinges. The door angled open and she slipped inside, kicking it shut behind her just as the Hell Hounds flung themselves towards the door. She skipped back several steps as the door fractured and splintered. She turned and ran further into the dark building as the door exploded inwards with a heart freezing howl from one of the Hell Hounds. Her boots echoed off the cold brick walls as she ran down a long corridor. A moment later it dumped her into a large dark, high ceilinged room. Grey sunlight filtering in through dirty windows only adding to the shadows and distorting her vision. The sun was setting quickly, hours earlier then it should. She ran an arm across her eyes, wiping sweat and hair out of her face as she quickly scanned the walls for another door. Her eyes finding nothing but inky shifting shadows. 

The Hell Hounds growled behind her, their paws slapping off the cement floor, sending up puffs of dust. She fired the shotgun again and missed. She dropped the empty shotgun and reached behind her waist for her pistol loaded with silver bullets. They wouldn’t do enough damage to take a Hell Hound down but it might stagger them enough for her to run. She fired the pistol and missed again, the snarls and puffs of dust inching towards her. “I hope you bitches choke on me!” she yelled stopping her retreat.

The Hell Hounds stopped also and she heard them pant loudly, sniffing the air around them. They broke into low, keening whines. Their steps retreating away from River. The Hunter raised her pistol again, taking aim at the shifting shadows slinking away from her. “Will you please not fire that thing again. The noise is deafening.” A low, smokey voice drifted out from one of the darker corners of the building. The Hell Hounds turned tail, crying like puppies that had just been kicked. She spun towards the voice and came face to face with a young man in an expensive suit. 

Rivers dry throat stuck as she tried to swallow. “Got a new meat suit, Harob?”

The demon nodded. “So sorry to have missed your call. I was a tad busy with that friend of yours,” the man smiled wickedly. “Thank you for the summoning though…it helped me track you here.” He clicked his tongue impatiently. “I’d prefer if you wouldn’t fight. I want to be gone from this wretched town before my Father realizes I’m here. He’s just a quarter mile that way as we speak.” Harob said pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “Sacrificing the last citizen of Carthage, Missy Brown aged 7. He’s raising Death. Did you and your friends realize that? The last and most powerful Horseman will be free to roam the Earth for the first time in millennia.” 

“Cool story,” River replied firing her pistol into the Demons chest. The silver bullets tore through the expensive Italian silk jacket and the Demon growled, doubling over in pain. River turned and ran in the same direction the Hell Hounds had gone. She made it less than a dozen paces before her feet were yanked out from underneath her, she hit the cold cement floor hard enough to daze her but still able to keep her gun gripped tightly in one hand. She was yanked by an invisible force ensnaring her ankles back across the dirty floor towards Harob.

“Well, I can’t have you run away before we get properly acquainted,” He said looking down at her. River kicked out with both legs trying to catch the Demon in his stomach. Harob grabbed her left leg before it made contact. His hands digging into her boot as she tried to scramble backwards out of his grip.

She started reciting the exorcism spell as she struggled. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas-“ The Demon smiled again and began twisting her foot. River felt the bones in her ankle grind against each other then snap and give way under the Demons strength. She choked on the next words of the exorcism and screamed in agony; the burning daggers of pain in her ankle blocked any coherent thought. He dropped her leg as River took another shuddering breath and let out a low wail of pain. Her free hand scrambled on the cement as she tried to push her self backwards with her right leg. She raised her pistol, arm trembling from the pain searing at her nerve endings and the adrenaline coursing through her; kicking her sense of self preservation into overdrive. Harob was on her in a second, his heavy body pressed down on her as she bucked and thrashed her arms. His coal black eyes narrowed in malicious glee as he grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her head to the side then up finally slamming it onto the cement floor. River heard a dull ‘pop’ as something in the back of her head cracked, her struggle petered out, limbs relaxing as her brain fought to stay conscious. 

The Demon leaned down, his nose less than an inch from her own, his sulfuric breath nauseating. “Aren’t you a feisty one? I bet this will be a bit like breaking a wild horse. Patience and a heavy hand when needed…” River took a breath, willing her limbs to cooperate. The cold, reassuring weight of her pistol still sat limply in her outstretched hand. Her fingers slowly and painfully curled around the grip, her finger sliding along the trigger. “You could be my new Prime. I sense the potential you have-“ An explosion rocked the brick building on it’s foundation. Dust and debris rained down on them. Harob spared a glance over his shoulder to watch as a great orange fireball rose up to the heavens and shined through the dirty windows. “Yes, I believe it’s time we made our exit.” He turned his pale face and onyx eyes back to the woman trapped underneath him.

River jammed her pistol under his jaw. “Go back to hell,” she said squeezing the trigger. His head snapped back, blood and gore dripping from the hole the bullet created. Harob’s head fell forward and a violent shudder ran through his body. His eyes appeared to move independently of each other, swirling whirl pools of black with flecks of the hazel irises beneath. He choked and sputtered, wisps of black smoke escaping from his lips. River tried to fire again but the gun was torn out of her hand. It skittered across the floor and into the darkness far out of her reach.

Harob coughed again, “Well, that was unpleasant.” His hands encircled her wrists and yanked them above her head, “I’m going to enjoy breaking you.”


	49. Chapter 49

Ch 49

The Colt didn’t kill Lucifer. 

But it did knock him on his ass for a good thirty seconds. Thirty glorious seconds in which Dean and Sam let a fireball of hope flare in their bellies. Then Lucifer coughed, shook it off and stood up. “Where did you get that?” he demanded. Dean stood shellshocked in front of him. He had been so damn sure this was it. He had his shot. He took it. Castiel was MIA. The last vision he had of River were her scared blue eyes. Less than fifty feet away from him. But she might as well have been on the opposite end of the Universe with a pack of Hell Hounds between them. Jo and Ellen were dead. Had died to give him and his brother a chance.

This chance. The chance to shoot the Devil dead. And it hadn’t fucking worked. Before Dean could respond to the Devil’s rhetorical question Lucifer swung his arm connecting the side of his head sending Dean a dozen feet into the air. Luckily a tree sprang out of the darkness and stopped Dean from flying into the soft earth of the field beyond. He fell to the ground in a crumpled head leaving Sam to face the Devil alone.

Lucifer smiled down at Dean’s still form before turning his decaying face back to the younger Winchester. “Now, where were we?” Sam stared at the Archangel in front of him, fear coursing through him at an octave he had yet to experience. “Don’t look at me like that, Sam. That was a great shot. Really. Your brother has guts of steel…but there are five things in all of creation that gun can’t kill. And I just happen to be on of them.” Satan smiled sheepishly picking up a discarded shovel near a pile of dirt. “If you give me just a minute…I got one thing I need to finish.” He turned away from Sam and began shoveling the dirt onto a huge mound behind him. Sam took the opportunity to run to his brother. Dean had a strong, steady heartbeat but was down for the count for the time being. “Sammy, would it be to much to ask for you to just say ‘yes’ right here, right now. Put all this unpleasantness behind us?” Lucifer called to him. The Devil lazily leaned on his shovel looking down at the brothers.

“Never! It is never going to happen!” Sam yelled.

Satan sighed and returned to his dirt, “Oh I don’t know Sam. I think it is. And I think it’s gonna happen within six months…in Detroit.”

Sam ran a hand over his face, took a deep breath and looked again at the dozens of shadowed men standing silently watching Lucifer. “What did you do to this town?”

“I was very generous with this town, Sammy. One demon for every able bodied man,” Lucifer called over his shoulder. His shovel never slowing, the mound of dirt slowly decreasing.

A sick feeling of realization washed over Sam. The meaning behind the huge pile of earth and the missing towns people. “And the rest of them?” He demanded.

Lucifer stopped his shoveling and made a show of cracking his back, “Down there, Sammy. The women and children first of course. It’s awful I know. But these Horsemen are so demanding. And I guess when you’re Death you get to call your own shots…to an extent.” Dean groaned and tried to sit up. Sam leaned down to his brother and pulled him unsteadily to his feet. Satan had turned back to the mass grave he had finished covering and began chanting in Enochian. A great sigh drifted up from the packed Earth, as if a few hundred people had just exhaled their last breath all at once. “Now for the final part. Repeat after me: I willingly give my life, my essence, my soul to you Death,” Lucifer said looking out at the dozens of black eyes staring back at him. As one, the gathered demons repeated the final part of the spell. Then as one they died. Brilliant flashes of orange sparks erupting as Lucifer killed each of them. Dean and Sam stood dazed. Lucifer brushed the dirt of his hands and turned towards the brothers shrugging his shoulders, “What? They’re just demons.” His lips curled in disgust as he spat out the word. Thunderous groaning echoed across the empty field as the very Earth shuddered. Lucifer smiled triumphantly looking again towards the mass grave, the dirt within crumbling and churning as if a giant sinkhole was opening up. The bodies of the sacrificed residents being pulled down to the Pit; more sighs, high pitched wails and sobs rose up from the swirling whirlpool of earth. The brothers took a step back as the ground under them shook and hit a wall of trench coat. Castiel placed a hand on each of their shoulders and suddenly the brothers found themselves in the Impala. 

Dean started the car. Tires screeching as he pushed his Baby to her limits. “Cas you gotta find River, man. She’s still here somewhere-“ Dean said looking into the Angels cool cornflower blue eyes in the rearview mirror. The muscles in Castiel’s jaw tightened and he was gone. “Shit! Shit!” Dean yelled slamming his hand into the steering wheel. Carthage quickly disappearing from view as the Impala tore away from the doomed town. 

“He’ll find her, Dean.” Sam said quietly.

“And then what, huh? We’re back to rounding up the last two Decoder rings from Death and Pestilence…fuck. That’s really our only god damn option isn’t it?” Dean muttered shaking his head. He pressed his foot down harder on the accelerator and Baby lurched forward with another burst of speed. 

“Or God.“ Sam countered. 

Dean snorted, “God. Where the hell was God while Lucifer slaughtered that town? Where was God while Jo bled to death and Ellen blew herself up?”

Castiel reappeared in the backseat, “River is not in Carthage.”

“What? Is she dead, Cas? The Hellhounds…they had to have left something,” Dean swallowed thickly.

The Angel shook his head, “Dean she is not in Carthage. I found some of her blood, a very small amount, and signs of a struggle in a building in the middle of town. But she is gone.”

“No! No! God damn it. Then she ran. She made it out of town.”

“I checked everywhere in a fifty mile radius. She’s not here Dean.”

“Then find her!” he yelled back.

Castiel cast his eyes down, “Dean, I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t!”

“Dean,” Sam started quietly. “Her warding. She’s invisible to all Angels. Just like us. That means Cas, too.”

A vein throbbed in Dean’s neck. He clenched the steering wheel hard enough for his knuckles to pop. The tidal wave of anger and frustration crested and he lost control. Letting out a guttural yell he slammed his fist into Baby’s roof. The self-loathing, the feeling of absolute failure, the lack of control over his own piece of shit life were suffocating. He had one damn job: to kill Lucifer and he failed. Now Ellen and Jo were dead, River was probably dead. And now he and his brother were exactly back to square one; sitting ducks waiting for one or both of them to be scooped up by an Archangel. “Harob has her.” He said when he was finally able to speak again.

“How?” Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, “I don’t fucking know how but he does. Call Bobby he’s gotta find another summoning spell or a way to track the son of a bitch. There has to be something.”

“I gotta tell him about Ellen and Jo,” Sam said staring at his phone. He didn’t know how he was going to tell Bobby Lucifer was still alive, the Harvelles were dead and River might as well be at this point. But somehow he did. 

Bobby was silent for several long seconds. “Alright, son. Alright I’ll find something…just don’t go doin’ anything else too stupid for the time bein’.”

Just as the first earthquake rocked Carthage, Harob wrapped his burning hands around River and transported them to some new isolated location. As she came to find out Demonic transportation was extremely unpleasant. When they landed Harob dropped her unceremoniously onto her broken ankle. Between the agonizing pain of her fractured bones and the constant dizziness from the concussion he had given her she could do nothing to stop the waves of nausea that rolled through her. She retched up the scant contents left in her stomach onto Harob’s shiny leather shoes. The demon screamed something at her in a language she didn’t understand and before she could even think to protect herself he had kicked her in the side of the face. And then she floated in darkness.

River struggled back to consciousness. Flashes of grey concrete, chipped white tile, and Levi lying on a metal table streaked across her memory. She tried to open her eyes, the left side of her face throbbing from Harob’s kick. The swollen mess of her face and the pounding in the back of her head making it difficult to focus on any one thing. She tried to relax her stiff arms but realized they were stretched painfully high above her head. Her wrists bound with barbed-wire and hung from a metal hook that dangled from the ceiling on a long chain. She looked up at the hook she was trapped on, stared as fat, dark red drops of her blood welled up around the sharp metal thorns digging into her wrists and rolled lazily down her pale arms. Her fingers already felt dull, swollen and useless; every so often a tiny prickling sensation would flare up as some nerve ending fought against gravity and lack of oxygenated blood. They were turning an odd shade of deep maroon that she knew couldn’t be a good sign. Her head felt too heavy on her neck and she let it loll forward. She didn’t know how long she’d been hanging there unconscious; where ever ‘there’ was.

Wherever Harob had taken her it was cold, dark and carried sound well. She could hear echoes of dripping water, the faint scurrying of rodent feet, and occasionally a distant a train whistle. River shivered in the damp, cold air. Sometime during her little nap, Harob had stripped her of all her clothes except the black tank top she had worn under her shirt and her ‘Wonder Woman’ underwear. She tried to shift her weight on her right foot; her left ankle a never ceasing staccato of fiery arrows of pain. She took a deep breath, pushed up on the ball of her right foot and tried to force the knot of barbed-wire over the hook. Her foot slipped on the smatter of blood staining the concrete floor and she landed heavily on her broken ankle. The fresh eruption of agony tore a throat ripping scream from her. The evil little barbs in her wrists dug in further as she wailed causing more drops of blood to rain down. She fought back dry heaves, her stomach rolling dangerously with each burst of pain, tears streamed down her cheeks momentarily blinding her. “Fuck, fuck. Get it the fuck together…breathe….” River chanted to herself, trying to take slow deep breathes shoving down the pain, nausea and panic overloading her senses. She wiped her wet eyes on the inside of her arm, blinking them back into focus and saw Harob standing in front of her smiling wickedly. 

“Welcome back,” he cooed at her.

“Exorcizamus te-“ the spell fell from her lips instantly. Harob clicked his tongue annoyed. A glob of almost congealed blood bobbed out of the hole under his chin then plopped to the ground at her feet. He slapped River across the swollen side of her face and the exorcism spell died on her lips. 

“Why don’t you stop with the childish mumbling? We both know you can’t complete the spell fast enough.”

River sniffed and spat a mouth full of blood into Harobs face, “How about you eat a dick? Just go find a big fat juicy dick and eat it mother fucker.”

“My, my, my….what to do with you.” Harob muttered wiping the blood off his face. He stared at her a moment like a frustrated teacher inspecting an insolent pupil. He suddenly stepped forward, closing the space between them grabbed River under her armpits, lifted her off the hook and dropped her to the hard ground. A torrent of ‘pins and needles’ shot through her arms as the pressure was released. She tried flexing her swollen, numb fingers and was rewarded with another wave of tingling pain. Before she could get any sensation back into her digits Harob wrapped one burning hand around her broken ankle and dragged her along the cold floor. She screamed and cursed at him as he pulled her carelessly down one long corridor and into a another large open room. This room was lit with hundreds of burning candles. More hooks dangled from the ceiling, a deep trough ran through the middle of the floor and a every few feet were drain holes. Even through the pain and fear threatening to eat her alive River finally realized he had taken her to a slaughterhouse. The tang of dead flesh and old blood wafted up from the disused drains. He dropped her leg and walked away from her. She took several deep breaths taking in her view of the kill room. Levi still lay silent and unmoving on a metal table a few feet away. His face a motley assortment of purple and yellow bruises. His shirt stained with blood and torn down the middle exposing a small patch of salt and pepper chest hair. 

“Levi! LEVI!” River screamed. “What did you do to him?”

“What haven’t I done to him?” Harob quipped back as he flipped through a large ornately decorated black and gold engraved book. She had a clear view of the gory hole her bullet had blown through the back of the vessels head. He hadn’t bothered to try and heal himself or get a new body. “I leave him alone for twenty minutes and he’s put himself under some sort of spell. I can’t wake the bastard up.” He found the page he had been looking for and retrieved River dragging her across the floor towards his book. 

“Get your fucking hands off of me!” she yelled fighting and scratching and clawing every painful step.

“You will sign your name here. You will be mine for eternity. You will help me reunite the covens. Then we will destroy Lucifer and I will take my rightful place on the throne of Hell,” Harob stated. He had one hand pinned around her upper arm forcing her to stand. With the other hand he held an old fashioned feather quill pen more fitting for Hogwarts then their current surroundings. 

“That’s your bad guy plan? Really after thousands of fucking years that’s the best you got?” A fractured, hysterical laugh bubbled up from Rivers chest and she shook her head. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I’m not putting my name in that god damn book. Lucifers dead or gonna be soon. We got the Colt back and Dean’s gonna shoot your daddy in his fucking face.”

“Your plan failed. Your friends are dead.” His grip around her arm tightened enough for her to fear he was going to break it too. “Give me your name. You have nothing left to fight for.”

“No. Never. Just fucking kill me,” she said shaking her head again. He released his grip and she stumbled back landing hard on her ass. Her wrists still bound with barbed-wire. Her ankle an ever-swelling lump of hot pain. But for a split second the cold concrete was soothing on her almost naked body. 

Harob let out a deep sigh, “You all break eventually.” His hands dropped to his belt, his fingers unclasping the metal and pulling the long black leather strap through the belt loops. 

“Don’t you fucking touch me,” River whispered, a new kind of fear creeping up her spine. One she had experienced before and would die fighting before it happened to her again.

Harob smiled sadly, wrapping the strap of the belt around his hand and letting the metal buckle dangle free. “I would never force myself on you. When this is all over you will give yourself willingly to me. Just like Rene, Danielle, Vivian and all the others I’ve had during the ages. Until then…” He swung his arm up, the metal buckle making a whistling sound as it flew through the air. River had enough time to try and curl herself into a tight ball, throwing her arms over her head and face before the buckle hit. The first bite of metal had barely registered before there three or four more landed on different parts of her body. She bit her lips until they bled trying to choke back the screams. Harob never tired, the belt being whipped against her again and again. Smacking her arms, her back, thighs, butt, every exposed inch of her body he could get to. She ran out of energy to keep screaming and lay curled in a loose ball crying silently. He finally stopped his assault and she could faintly hear him sliding the belt back into place over the sound of her thundering heart and ragged breaths. “Write your name in my grimoire and I will show you such wondrous things,” he said kneeling beside her.

She flinched away from his touch as he wiped a piece of sweaty hair out of her eyes. “Can you do one thing for me first?” she mumbled.

“What do you wish me to do?” Harob asked gently.

River took a shaky breath, “Can you go fuck yourself? I’ll seriously consider your offer after you go fuck yourself. I just gotta know you mean business before I damn my eternal soul to hell.” Harob ground his teeth and growled. He ripped her off the ground by the tangle of barbed wire around her wrists and slammed her back onto one of the hooks dangling from the ceiling. Fresh rivulets of blood ran down her arms as she gasped against the pain.

“You stay there. And think about your options,” Harob hissed at her.

“Then I’ll stay here ‘till I rot you son of a bitch!” she shouted. His black eyes flashed dangerously in the candle light before he disappeared. It was then that River allowed herself to break down, crying out against the pain her abused body was enduring and fearing that Harob’s claim that Dean and the others had failed was true. The chest heaving sobs didn’t last long, crying was causing her bruised ribs and back more pain. She took a deep breath, wiped her face the best she could on her bloody arm again and tried to adjust herself on the meat hook she was hanging from. Her eyes drifted back to Levi, the wavering light of the candles making it impossible for her to tell if he was breathing. “Levi! Levi wake the fuck up,” she yelled hoarsely. “Please! Let me know you’re alive.” He didn’t move, nothing moved except the candle flames and a rat that had crawled out of the shadows and was edging closer to her dangling toes. 

Over the next two days Bobby pulled a dozen or so of his oldest, dustiest books down from his bookshelves to find scrying and summoning spells they had yet to try. So far they had all been useless. Harob had no intent of answering any of their summons. Castiel had been gone for long periods of time, only popping in to let them know where he had searched and that he had found nothing useful. “How ‘bout you tell me when you find something helpful, Cas! Like that son of a bitch Crowley!” Dean finally yelled at the Angel. 

Castiel stuck his hands in the pockets of his trench coat and stared at his feet. “Dean I may have a lead on Pestilence-“

“Pestilence, Cas? I’m not going after another Horseman right now. We’re finding River, god damn it!” he yelled again looking from Castiel to his brother then down to Bobby. Sam ran his hands through his hair. Bobby sat heavily back in his wheelchair and pulled down on his ever-present baseball cap. “She isn’t gone. I’m getting her back!”

“Thank you heavenly father, I’ve finally reached them.” A faintly glowing shadow appeared in the center of the barn. The four men whipped around to face the intruder.

“Levi? Is that you?” Bobby asked, pushing his wheelchair closer to the ephemeral figure. 

Levi did indeed stand before them, his essence wavering in the slight breeze of the barn. “It is me Bobby Singer. I haven’t got much time. I’ve been traveling through the Veil to reach you. I’m sorry it’s taken so long. I’m dying. Will be dead any moment. But River is alive for now. You, Angel, you can take them to her before it’s too late.” Levi pointed at Castiel. The Angel narrowed his blue eyes. Humans were not usually allowed to go traipsing through the Veil. This human had gifts that were truly uncommon. 

“Where is she, Levi?” Dean demanded. Levi said something but the words were lost in the borderlands between the living and dead. The Pow-Wow healer doubled over suddenly one hand grasping at his chest and grunted in pain. 

“Dean, he’s killing her. You must hurry or we will both be lost.” He held out his spectral hand towards Dean. The hunter rushed forward and grabbed for Levi. Their hands connected and Levi sent him a mental image of their location then he was gone leaving nothing behind but a cold breeze.

“Cas I know where they are!” Dean exclaimed turning towards his brother and the Angel. 

Castiel touched his fingers to Dean’s forehand and commanded, “Show me.” The location Levi had given him surged to the front of his consciousness and into Castiel. “We must go now,” he said placing a hand on each of the brothers shoulders. They were gone before Bobby could blink.

“Balls,” the old hunter muttered angrily into the empty barn.

The first time Harob used the cattle prod on her, River’s bladder failed. The demon had found it in some dark corner of the abandoned slaughterhouse and decided to see if he could get it to work. He pressed the cold tips into the soft flesh of her ass and sent her jittering like a spastic marionette as she dangled from the meathook. She choked and seized for several long minutes afterwards before all her muscles relaxed. She was so tired and spent she didn’t have the energy to be embarrassed about the warm urine dripping down her legs and ruining her ‘Wonder Woman’ underwear. “So much unpleasantness and for what? Pride? Spite?”

“Fuck you,” River muttered. Her eyes looked behind the demon to her friend laying silently on the metal butchering table. 

Harob responded with giving her another few seconds on the receiving end of the electric prod. “Is it him? Are you trying to save him? Or wait for him to wake up and save you?” He said setting the cattle prod down on the table next to Levi.

“Leave him alone,” River begged. Harob looked over his shoulder at her. “Leave him alone!” she screamed. The Demon looked down at the pale, sleeping form. He jabbed him with the cattle prod causing Levi’s sleeping form to shake and twitch on the table. Levi still did not wake or cry out, he remained as he was before silent, pale and oblivious to the world around him. Harob muttered something under his breath and touched Levi’s closed eyes. What ever he had tried hadn’t worked Levi remained unconscious. The Demon growled in frustration and slammed his fist into Levi’s jaw knocking the sleeping mans head to the side. River could tell from he strange way Levi’s jaw now jutted out Harob had just broken it. “Get away from him asshole!”

Harob stalked towards River, reached behind his back and pulled out a viciously curved dagger from the folds of his jacket. “Give me your name or you both die tonight,” Harob said pressing the tip of the dagger into her throat.

“No,” she answered. 

“So be it. He dies first.” Harob said turning away from River. Without hesitation he plunged the dagger into Levi’s heart. His eyes fluttered open briefly as if in disbelief of what had just happened then her friend was gone. 

River screamed, struggling again to get off the hook her wrists were tied to, “Levi! Levi I’m here! I’m so sorry!” Harob left the dagger in Levi’s chest and picked up the cattle prod.

Castiel’s weakened grace had made it especially exhausting to fly both Sam and Dean to the dark building Levi had given as Harob’s location. He staggered and fell to his knees when they landed. The brothers shot wary glances around the dark building. Dean pulled Cas to his feet and asked, “You sure this is the place?” Cas nodded.

A scream echoed across the cement walls, bouncing between rooms making it impossible for them to figure out which direction it had originated. “RIVER!” Dean yelled into the darkness. Another scream followed. He took off into the darkness, the screams growing louder as the Sam and Castiel followed close behind. The last scream ended suddenly as they ran into another large open room, this one lit with hundreds of flickering candles. A young man in an expensive suit stepped away from a pale body suspended from the ceiling. Her arms stretched above her head, her toes barely touching the floor, bright red hair obscuring her bruised face. “RIVER!” Dean yelled again, raising the Colt and taking aim at Harob. The Demon opened his mouth, ready to finally shed his damaged vessel and run. Dean fired the Colt, the bullet hit Harob between the eyes. His mouth snapped shut. His body convulsed twice. Putrid orange light flashing behind his eyes then he dropped dead. Faint whips of sulfuric black smoke drifted from his half open mouth. Dean ran towards River’s limp form, “Baby, baby wake up. Come on sweetheart.” He ran his hands through her hair, lifting her head. “Sammy! Cas! Help me! She’s not breathing!” They ran to Dean’s side, Cas lifted her off the hook and laid her gently on the ground. “Cas help her man! Fix her! She isn’t breathing!” Dean yelled again, his fingers running along her throat looking for a pulse the way River had shown him.

“Dean, I can’t heal her.” Castiel told him. “My grace…” 

Dean’s frightened green eyes searched his brothers face, “She’s not gonna die. Help me do something!” 

Sam nodded, “Ok. Ok. Uhm….give her a breath through her mouth remember? Like that stupid video she made us watch.” Clumsily, uncoordinated and shaking from adrenaline they tried to get her breathing again. Sam’s big hands pressing down on her chest to try and get her stubborn heart to beat again, Dean giving her his breaths, Castiel pacing nervously between them.

“Wait! I hear her heart,” the Angel suddenly yelled. Sam stopped his compressions so Castiel could hold a hand over her chest. “Yes, yes, she’s breathing. Her heart is beating.” 

“Wake up, Baby. Come on,” Dean muttered wiping her dirty hair out of her face. Sam pulled out his phone trying to get through to an emergency operator. He cursed after a few seconds of busy signal and found their location on his GPS. 

“Cas, there’s a trauma hospital here. Can you get her there?” Sam showed Castiel the map on his phone. 

Castiel glanced at the map, “Yes. I will come back for you when I can.” He picked River up off the floor and was gone in a great flap of his wings. Half the flickering candles were blown out leaving the brothers alone with the bodies of Levi and the demon.


	50. Chapter 50

Ch 50

Something hard and annoying was sticking up her nose. River grabbed for it. Her hands felt heavy and uncoordinated. The Vienna sausages attached to her palms hooked under the plastic tubing and she pulled it free of her nose with a sigh of relief. “Hey Princess, no, no, no. Lets put that back. I promised your nurse I’d get you to behave this morning,” Dean’s soothing voice murmured in her ear. The hard plastic prongs were gently placed back in her nose as River pried her heavy eyes open.

“Dean?” she croaked, running her dry tongue across her cracked lips.

His blurry red and black plaid shirt shifted across her field of vision again, “Take a drink, sweetheart.” He placed a straw against her lips and she pulled on it taking a tentative mouthful of cold water. The fogginess around her vision slowly cleared and she saw Dean’s emerald green eyes over the rim of her plastic cup. His brow was drawn together, dark circles hung under his eyes and his jaw was covered in several-day old scruff.

“How?” River asked quietly, her fingers pulling at the oxygen tubing again. 

Dean sighed as she tossed the cannula over the side rail of her bed and out of his reach, “Levi somehow he…he got to us. He told us where you were.” He tucked a piece of wavy red hair behind her ear and sat on the bed next to her. “I thought I lost you. Again.”

River closed her eyes against the fresh memory of pain searing her nerves as Harob jabbed her with the cattle prod causing her muscles to constrict and tighten so hard she thought they were being ripped off her bones. Harob and his pitch black eyes, face contorted in fury as she refused him for the final time. A vision of Harob stabbing her friend flashed in front of her. The ways Levi’s eyes opened in shock as the knife pierced his heart. “He killed Levi,” she finally said. 

“I know,” Dean took one of her hands in his and rubbed circles on the back of it with his thumb. “We took care of him. We let his people know what happened. He’s at peace.”

She looked down at her still tingling fingers. For the most part they were back to her normal pale flecked here and there with freckles. A few of her fingernails were dark purple but other wise intact. Her wrists were wrapped in thick white bandages and she started pulling at the tape. 

Dean pulled her hands apart so she couldn’t undo the dressings, “You’re gonna get me in trouble with Nurse Ratchet.”

She gave up messing with her bandages and looked at the plastic name band on her wrist, “Which one of you assholes checked me in under my middle name?”

“You can thank Cas for that.” Dean answered smiling slightly. He had already given the Angel a load of crap about what aliases are and how to use them.

“Meridian Samaritan Trauma Center? We’re in Idaho?” she asked. 

Dean nodded, “You’ve been here three days. Pretty out of it since your surgery. You were hallucinating and they tried to tie you down. That didn’t go over too well…” His eyes were heavy and drawn with exhaustion and worry.

“Hey Riv, welcome back,” Sam said as he and Castiel walked into the hospital room. Sam handed his brother a large cup of steaming black coffee which Dean immediately took a long drink from. 

“Sam, Cas I’m so glad you guys are ok. Harob told me…he said you were all dead,” she said giving each of the men a hug as they leaned over her hospital bed. “Wait…Jo where is she? How bad is she hurt? That fucking Hellhound looked like it got her…” Rivers eyes darted between the three men. Dean stared intently into his coffee while Sam’s jaw tightened and he shook his head quickly not trusting his voice not to crack. “And Ellen?”

“She uh…” Dean cleared his throat and looked up at her, “She gave us a chance. Helped me and Sammy get away. We got to Lucifer. I tried the Colt and it didn’t fucking work. And now they’re both dead and me and Sam are back to being ladies-in-waiting for a couple of Archangel douchebags.” River blinked several times waiting for the angry tears she knew should be there but found there were none. She felt strangely hollow, dried up and exhausted from losing so many friends. The weight of all their loss, Pamela, Gabriel, Levi, Ellen and Jo hung like an anchor around her heart pulling down on her soul. She wanted to go back into a drug induced sleep and ignore the end of the world.  
“Good morning, Presley.” The group looked to the doorway where a middle aged nurse bustled in. “Nice to see you haven’t ripped off all your bandages or start screaming about demons.”

“Fuck,” River muttered under her breath. 

Dean smiled at the nurse turning the Winchester charm up to full volume, “My girls just a lite weight when it comes to narcotics, nurse. She’s right as rain this morning.”

The nurse clicked her tongue and said “Mmm-hmm, well Dr. Patel will be by shortly to check on you.” She pushed River’s table away from the bed and flung the white hospital blanket off. “How about I set you up for a bed bath?”

“How about you get my discharge papers?” River told her looking down at the ugly white cast adorning her left leg. “At least it isn’t pink,” she thought. Someone, most likely the green eyed hunter sitting next to her had written “LED ZEPPELIN ROCKS” in red marker along the length of the cast. There were also “D.W.”, “S.W.” and an enochian sigil that River guessed must be Castiel’s version of his initials scribbled on the cast.

The nurse let out a startled laugh. “You can’t be serious. You were thrown from a horse and nearly trampled to death. This is the most awake you’ve been since you were admitted.” The nurse gazed down at River and crossed her arms over her chest.

River cast a sideways look at Dean, “Thrown from a horse?” Dean pointed at Castiel and the Seraphim shrugged his shoulders as if to tell her it was the best he could come up with on short notice. “I’m leaving in twenty minutes with or without my discharge papers.” She told the nurse as she pulled the IV out of her arm and dropped it on the bed next to her. “Where are my clothes?” The nurse opened and closed her mouth several times like a fish choking on air.

Dean stood up from the bed and grabbed her duffle bag and a pair of metal crutches that were leaning against the wall and told the nurse, “You know a wise man once said there’s only two ways to keep a red head happy: one is to let her thinks she’s having her own way and the other is to let her have it.” The nurse shook her head and muttered something before walking out of the room. 

“I guess I’ll go get the car,” Sam said as River slowly swung her legs to the edge of the bed. Her hospital gown came loose at the back and Sam stole a glance at the bruises and welts marring her pale skin. One real look at her and no one in their right mind would believe she’d been thrown from a horse. But Sam Winchester had learned a long time ago people believed what was easiest to stomach and tended to ignore everything else. River nodded weakly and as if sensing his eyes on her skin pulled the pale blue hospital gown up around her shoulders. 

Dean turned back from the small bathroom where he had set Rivers duffle bag and saw her pale sweaty face. “Why don’t you lay back down?” 

She shook her head, “I’m fine. Just a little dizzy.”

“That’s because you have a severe concussion , a hairline fracture near your right occipital bone as well as your heart rate is very irregular from the electric shocks…”

“Can it Cas. Go find me a wheelchair or something,” River grumbled at him holding her hand out for the crutches. With no fair amount of effort and colorful curse words she heaved herself off the bed and slowly made it the six paces to the tiny bathroom. Dean hovered behind her, arms outstretched and ready to catch her if she tipped one way or the other. “I’m fine, D. I’ve got to pee and I’d like to do it in private please,” she said sliding the small door closed in his face.

“You are the farthest fucking thing from fine right now River.” He replied to the closed door. He was met with silence for several minutes until River started whispering and cursing under her breath as she struggled into her clothes. 

“My fucking jeans don’t fit over this fucking cast,” she yelled. “Couldn’t the fucking surgeon just put some god damn pins or something in my ankle and call it a day.”

“She did put pins in; four of ‘em and two rods to hold everything together and you’re still probably gonna have a limp when the cast can come off in six weeks,” Dean told her as she slid the door open. She’d settled on a pair of yoga pants that she was able to stretch over the cast, a long sleeved henley and a hoody. 

“At least most of my pretty face is intact,” she said giving him a half smile the right side of her face an ugly swollen mishmash of purple and yellow. He glowered down at her. “Come on Winchester. We can’t waste any more time here. Lucifer is out there planning who knows what sort of fuckery. Pestilence and Death are still out there and we are running out of time.” She shifted on her crutches, tense pangs vibrating through her wrists with every movement. Castiel returned with a wheelchair as requested and River settled uncomfortably into it. Her face blanching again as she ran a shaking hand across her mouth to try and ward off the nausea that rocked through her. Dean and Castiel’s eyes met briefly before staring down at her like a couple of concerned uncles. “Stop fucking doing that. You’re as bad as him and Sam and their silent Jedi shit. I’m fine. It’s just my….everything hurts. I’ll be good in a couple days.”

“I’ll go see if Sam needs any help procuring a car,” Castiel muttered before disappearing.

“Where’s your car?” River asked as Dean took Castiel’s place at the handlebars and steered them towards the elevators. Several of the nurses gave them disgruntled looks, muttering to one another as they rolled past. 

“Baby’s at Bobby’s where I left her. Cas flew me and Sam here sans car,” Dean answered as the doors slid open. Sam and Cas were waiting for them at the pick up curb in front of the hospital in a late 90’s Cadillac El Dorado. “What the hell?” Dean muttered disgustedly at the Grey Poupon colored monstrosity parked in front of them.

“What?” Sam asked defensively. “It’s roomy. Riv can sleep in the backseat on the way to Bobby’s.”

“Thanks Sammy,” River told him as the big man helped her out of the wheelchair and into the backseat. Cas disappeared before they hit the city limits leaving the hunters to themselves. The car smelled faintly of stale Pall Mall’s and Aqua Net hairspray but the back seat was indeed roomy although not as comfortable as the Impala. River shifted every few minutes trying to find a good position for the heavy cast on her leg and her tense muscles. Sam turned around in his seat to look at her as she stared out the window watching the flat land zipping past.

“Do you want to talk about…do you need to talk about what happened?” he finally asked her. Dean ran his hands along the steering wheel and rolled his shoulders nervously.

River turned her gaze away from the window to look at Sam and met Dean’s eyes briefly in the mirror, “Harob’s dead right? Or did he smoke out like a fucking coward when you guys crashed the party?”

“He’s dead,” Dean answered.

“Did you burn his Grimoire?”

“Yeah Cas took care of it,” Sam answered.

“What’s there to talk about? He beat the shit out of me, killed Levi, beat the shit out of me again and now he’s dead,” River said reaching down to try and scratch an itch under the cast. 

“He almost fucking killed you,” Dean barked. “He had you hanging there like a fucking side of beef, you weren’t breathing. Cas couldn’t fucking heal you…Sam broke a couple of your ribs doing CPR; I heard them fucking snap…” 

Sam mouthed, “Sorry.”

River stared at the bandages wrapped around her wrists, “Well, I guess I owe you one.” She went back to staring out the window. The last thing she remembered was Harob shoving the cattle prod into the soft skin under her rib cage and screaming out in pain.

“So…Presley?” Sam asked after a few seconds of heavy silence.

“Daddy was an Elvis fan,” River said leaning her head back on the musty seat.

“Your brother got the normal name and you got the peace, love and Hawaiian shirt name?”

River laughed, “No, Jim was my brothers middle name in honor of Jim Morrison. Daddy, the Star Trek loving Vietnam Vet with a killer record collection, got to give us our middle names and Mom, the bell-bottom wearing, granola crunching love child gave us our first names. Jimmy’s first name was Sequoia but I had a lisp and couldn’t pronounce that.” 

“Guess it’s better than being named after your grandma,” Dean muttered. 

“What are we going to do now?” River asked. 

Dean shrugged his shoulders, “Cas is still trying to find a lead on the Horsemen or God. He got close to Pestilence last week near Nairobi but the bastard disappeared before he could sniff him out.”

River nodded, “What are we supposed to do with the rings if…when we get the last two?”

“Don’t know yet. Gabriel could’ve been a tad more specific on that part.”

“Yeah well the specifics were never that important to him,” she answered smiling sadly. The car drove forward and soon Dean found a classic rock station that didn’t suck too bad. The music and flat road helped lull River into a semi calm sleep. She finally woke when the gentle sway of the moving car had stopped for several long moments. She sat up stiffly and a fresh wave of dizziness washed over her. Her stomach growled loudly and she rubbed it trying to remember the last time she’d had anything to eat. She had been in such a hurry to leave the hospital her empty stomach had not caught up with her. The brothers were gone from the front seat and the car was parked in front of a motel office. The rundown ‘L’ shaped main building was coated in paint that had probably been red at one point but in the setting sun had a nauseous pink tone. This motel offered both daily and hourly rates, just their kind of digs. Dean could sniff out a motel that fit their needs from ten miles out; places that didn’t need any papers signed as long as you gave the clerk an extra $50 and didn’t question comings and goings at all hours or harried tire-screeching exits when things went bad. She opened her passenger door and scooted to the edge of the seat to call back at whichever brother was rummaging in the trunk. “I need my crutches.”

“Got’em,” Sam answered closing the trunk. He set their duffle bags down and helped her stand. River rolled her stiff shoulders and stretched her back grimacing as the fabric of her shirt rubbed one of her bruises wrong. “You alright?” Sam asked as she positioned the crutches under arms.

River nodded, “Where are we?”

“Somewhere in Wyoming,” he answered.

“Ohh we should go by the Devils Tower. You know the mashed potato mountain from ‘Close Encounters of the Third Kind’.”

“Maybe in the morning. You need some time out of the car and to get some sleep in a bed that doesn’t have side rails,” Dean told her as he walked towards them with two room keys grasped in his hand. He handed one to Sam and grabbed his and River’s duffle bags. The trio made it slowly across the parking lot towards their rooms. Dean still walking closely behind her in case she lost her balance on the uneven, pot hole marred asphalt. She leaned heavily on the crutches as Dean unlocked their room feeling like she’d just run a very painful marathon instead of hobbling ten feet. “You alright?” he asked her as she took a deep breath.

“You guys keep asking me that.” The corners of her mouth turning up as she looked over his shoulder at Sam as he disappeared into his own room. “I’m just tired of getting my ass kicked,” she told him as he swung the door open.

“I’m tired of you getting your ass kicked too,” Dean said locking the door behind them. River staggered over to the bed and sat quietly watching as he secured the room. He laid salt lines and goofer dust in front of the door and window, checked under the bed, the table, the nightstands and the closet for any hex bags and just for good measure burned a small bowl of sage and juniper to cleanse the room before finally shrugging out of his jacket. “Come on, let me take a look at your wrists.” He held out his hand and helped her stand. The bathroom was slightly larger than the one in her hospital room. Dean set his first aid kit and gun on the sink and helped her sit on the closed toilet. She peeled the old bandages off and tossed them into the waste basket. Dean kneeled in front of her ghosting his fingers over the dozens of partially scabbed wounds. “Take your clothes off,” he told her turning towards the tub. 

“What? No,” River replied pulling her hoodie tighter around her chest. Dean turned on the faucet and waited for the water to heat up then retrieved Rivers duffle bag. “Stay outta my shit, Winchester.” He ignored her and dug around in the bag, creating a line of a half dozen prescription bottles along the counter. 

“You know we’re gonna talk about this right?” he asked nodding his head towards the bottles.

“Yeah, alright Dad,” River muttered embarrassed she hadn’t trashed the bottles or done a better job of hiding them. Dean kept digging around in the bottom of her bag until he pulled out a purple and blue plastic wrapped sphere. “Hey I’m saving that,” she yelled as he tossed the bath bomb into the filling tub where it immediately started fizzing and bubbling. Soon the scent of lavender filled the small bathroom.

“I can dunk you in the bath with your clothes on if you’re gonna be stubborn,” Dean told her. 

“Can’t you just give me a couple of days…”

“No, you smell like a hospital.”

“Fuck you Winchester,” River grumbled letting him pull her long sleeved shirt over her head. 

“Maybe after your bath,” Dean said as he sucked in a quick breath taking in the full extent of the ugly purple-green bruises painting her back. He pulled her to her feet and yanked down on her pants peeling them over the cast and tossing them aside. This was perhaps the least sexy she had ever felt while being completely naked in front of Dean Winchester. His callused fingers trailed up her legs stopping to inspect each raised welt and angry red burn left behind by the electric prod. “I shouldn’t’ve shot him,” he murmured stepping behind her to continue his inspection, mentally cataloguing each new scar.

“What? Hell yeah you should’ve. Fuck that guy,” she told him over her shoulder, her arm going subconsciously to cover her naked chest.

“I should’ve taken him apart piece by piece. I should’ve made him suffer,” Dean said his green eyes boring into her.

“I’ll be ok. Maybe we just…leave the lights off for a while.” Her chest and cheeks blushed pink mixing with the bruises on her face.

Dean cupped her face in one warm hand, “I am never going to let this happen to you again. I’m going to keep you safe.” He ran his other hand along the soft curve of her back, pulled her close and took her lips with his. “Your bath is gonna get cold,” he said finally pulling slowly away from her. Her lips slightly swollen and pink from their long kiss. She looked longingly up at him then down to the steaming, hot fragrant bath. River limped to the edge of the tub and with Dean’s help slowly lowered herself into the water. Her casted leg set up on the tiled edge away from the water. She moaned happily as she sunk under the water, her breasts bobbing above the bubbles as she dunked her head back to wash her hair. She twisted her long hair up into a bun on top of her head and let the hot water and aromatherapy relax her sore muscles.

“How much of that shit have you been taking lately?” He asked sitting on the edge of the tub and indicating the various pills she had acquired through not entirely upright means.

She shrugged, rubbing scented bubbles up and down her arms. “I don’t know. Probably too much.”

“What are they for?”

“Depression, anxiety, nightmares… our daily lives. I thought if we could just kill Lilith I’d feel better. I came back from Zombieland and that evil bitch was already dead and we were still fucked and I unsurprisingly still felt like shit. But I kept taking them hoping I would just stop feeling everything. Except that hasn’t worked yet either.” 

“I’m sorry. I know things have been… shitty.”

River gave a short humorless laugh, “It’s the fucking Apocalypse. And it’s not your fault. Our lives are fucked. Always have been, always will be… I love you. I’m in love with you, Dean. And that scares the shit out of me. There’s no pill that’s gonna change that.”

“Riv,” Dean started.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know that whatever happens the next couple of months I’m with you. Until the end.” She told him running her warm, wet fingers along his jawline. Dean blinked and shook his head, knowing exactly what he wanted to say but afraid to say it. Once he verbalized what he wanted, what he dreamed of: the two of them happy or as close to happy as they could be, away from all the end of the world bullshit, he couldn’t take it back. And when things inevitably did not go their way that would be all he would think about: failing her. Again. Someone knocked at the door and River withdrew her hand and let it fall back under the bubbles. 

“Be right back,” Dean said grabbing his gun off the sink counter and heading for the door. She nodded and was self-conscious she’d said too much.

“You guys want some dinner,” she heard Sam ask. 

“Yes, gods I’m starving. I want pizza with pineapple, jalapeños and extra cheese,” she yelled. 

“Add sausage on my half,” Dean told his brother handing over the key to the Cadi.

“You two deserve each other. Only degenerates like pineapple on their pizza,” Sam yelled back. Dean quietly said something to his brother and Sam laughed. “It’s not my first rodeo, Dean. Just text me or whatever.” Before Dean closed and locked the door. She heard him shuffle around in the bedroom and then the low echo of music as he tuned the old school clock radio that was a staple in every motel room they’d ever stayed in. He reappeared a few minutes later bare chested, boots off and stared down at her. 

River sank back under the bubbles as Dean kneeled down beside the tub. He trailed one hand under the water, fingers brushing along the length of her thigh, “Water’s getting cold.”

“God damn Winchester, you are so fucking far out of my league.” She mumbled shyly as he pulled up on the stopper. Dean helped pull her to her feet then lifted her easily out of the tub. She let out a surprised laugh as he set her down, her hands grabbing at his shoulders for balance without her crutches. He dried her off with one of the motels rough off-white towels before kissing her again. He didn’t think he could tell her again how he felt about her, that he still loved her. He was sorry for everything thing that had wedged itself between them. That he was terrified of losing her. He could show her how he felt, that he wanted to be the one that made her happy. River felt her heart hammer against her rib cage as Dean pressed their bodies together. His hot skin gliding against her, one hand tangling in her wet hair, the other running up her inner thigh until his long fingers rubbed along her wet folds. Her hips jerked at his sudden touch and she squeezed his shoulders tighter, breathy little moans escaping her lips as Dean teased her entrance. Rivers knees shook, she was afraid her cast would slip out from underneath her at any second as Dean kept up his ministrations. Trusting Dean would catch her if it did. His lips were at her neck sucking and nipping, two thick fingers now inside of her, thrusting frustratingly slow and deliberate. She was seconds from the edge, eyes squeezed shut, fingers digging into his biceps for leverage. Dean felt her inner muscles tighten and pull on his fingers as her whole body trembled needing release. He withdrew his fingers and her eyes sprang open pupils huge and blown with need. “Fuck, Dean I need…,” she murmured trying to catch her breath.

Dean pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “What do you need?” he asked, his hot breath on her ear, hands moving to massage and rub the stiff nubs of her nipples. She cursed under her breath, letting her head fall back as Dean bent his head down and swirled his tongue over one pale pink bud. Her hands squeezing Deans arms as her uninjured leg shook.

“I need… my crutches,” she mumbled, “Before I fall on my ass.” Dean leaned down to kiss her again and instead gently scooped her off the floor. She let out another surprised laugh as he carried her out of the bathroom and laid her on the bed. He pulled his jeans off before climbing on top of her, settling his weight gently between her open legs his cock twitching against her thigh. He rolled his hips against her. The sensitive head of his cock bumping against her clit causing them both to gasp.The stupid, heavy cast on her leg kept her mostly pinned in one position underneath him as he slowly rubbed himself along her hot, wet folds. “Fuck-fuck-fuck,” River moaned as Dean finally pushed inside of her. The amount of restraint it took not to fuck her into the floor made the tight muscles in his back shake. Inch by inch he slid in, her inner muscles stretching around him then pulling him in tighter.

“God damn, god damn baby girl,” Dean groaned into her neck. “You feel so fucking good. Gonna make you cum so fucking hard.” He shifted his hips, sliding almost completely out of her before repeating the same excruciatingly slow thrust in. Rivers hands running through his hair, bringing Deans lips to hers in a crushing kiss. Their tongues meeting and tangling in a heated struggle, moans escaping her lips in breathy little pants as she tried to raise her hips to meet each thrust from Dean. Between her fingernails dragging up and down his back, her right leg hooked around his hips for leverage and the incoherent filth falling from her lips Dean almost lost his mind. He grit his teeth and gave her two hard thrusts, slamming into her hard enough to bang the headboard off the chipped plaster motel wall and earning a half pained scream of ‘Fuck Dean!’ from River. Her back arching up against him, eyes squeezed shut, the cast on her left leg sliding along the cheap sheets as she tried shift under him. “Oh fuck, sweetheart did I hurt you. Shit! Shit I’m such an asshole!” Dean pushed himself up almost completely off of River, his cock sliding out of her.

“No! I’m ok. Fuck me slow. Please.” 

“You sure I didn’t hurt you,” Dean asked worriedly, looking between them and down at her bruised body.

“If you don’t fucking make me cum like you promised I’m gonna hurt you.” River threatened. She almost sobbed with relief when he entered her again. Every ridge of his thick cock dragging along her inner walls causing her to shiver and clench around him. A fine sheen of sweat broke out on both their bodies as Dean did as she asked and fucked her slow, the sent of the lavender bath bomb and her warm arousal filling his senses and making his cock impossibly harder inside of her. Part of him didn’t know if he could even make her cum fucking this slow but he be damned if he didn’t try. Out of necessity when they had sex in the past they usually fucked hard and fast, Dean flipping her this and way that trying to coax as many orgasms out of her before Sam got back to their shared room or they felt like they’d pushed their luck in some parking lot and were going to get caught by the Police or someone else. Dean’s sex clouded mind tried to remember the last time they’d had sex. It had been months, before the last seal had fallen. Now he was inside of her, surrounded by her. Making love not screwing, acting like they had the rest of eternity to spend joined at the hips. River rolled her hips against him and suddenly Dean was hitting the most amazing spot inside of her. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, please…” Her moans increasing in volume as she teetered on the edge of orgasm.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean growled feeling her muscles tightening and pulling at him. He pushed into her again and her orgasm hit hard. 

River threw her head back into her pillow and screamed, “Fuck Dean!” Her body writhing and trembling as each wave of pleasure tore through her finally became too much and Dean’s self-control was gone, his hips shaking from his own orgasm. River’s heart beat wildly, ricocheting around her ribs sending the vibrations into Dean’s chest. He gently collapsed on top of her, his breath ragged against her neck as his brain fogged with post orgasm bliss. “God damn, I don’t know if that was such a good idea for someone who’s just been electrocuted,” River murmured taking a deep breath to try and slow her heart. Dean sat up on one elbow his face a mask of wary concern. River laughed, “I’m kidding. That was fucking fantastic.” 

“Just wait till that cast comes off, Sweetheart.” He promised rolling off her and letting out a deep breath. She dragged her injured left leg to a more comfortable position on the bed and lay her head on Dean’s warm chest. Her fingers tracing the anti-possession tattoo by memory. 

“As long as I don’t have to wait that long for my pizza I’ll be good,” River said smiling.

“Oh shit yeah, I’m starving. I told Sammy I’d text him when we were done.”

“Pretty sure everyone in the county knew when I was done,” she said blushing. River grabbed for her crutches and hobbled over to her open duffle bag looking for clean, wearable clothes while Dean sent a text to his brother. 

They left the dingy motel early the next morning. Sam quietly taking the back seat letting River and Dean share the front seat. A frosty silence had fallen over the group since the night before. River had once again asked what the next step in averting the Apocalypse was going to be now that they were down to two equally daunting tasks: Finding God, which so far over the last weeks and months Castiel had not found one real clue to his Father’s location and/ or killing the last two Horsemen, whom they had no idea how to even track. The amount of strange and demonic omens popping up all over the world had grown exponentially in the few short days since they had failed in Carthage and anyone of them could be signs of Death or Pestilence or both. Dean had made it abundantly clear River was on lite duty until the cast came off in six weeks, or the end of the world which ever happened to happen first. 

“You’re stayin’ with Bobby. He needs the company and I need to know you are somewhere safe,” Dean said looking across the stained vinyl seat of the El Dorado at River. She sat with her head sullenly leaning against the window, watching as they passed the “WELCOME TO SOIUX FALLS” sign. 

“I’m safe with you.” She said turning in the seat to face him, “ We are safer together.” 

Dean shook his head, “How are you gonna hunt? Defend yourself if…when things go sideways because lately everything is going fucking sideways.”

She sighed and looked back at Sam who had wisely decided to stay silent and not take sides, “I can man the laptop and the fucking police scanners. I can find cases or leads or research some other fucking way to stop the world from ending.” Dean said nothing as he drove through the entrance to the Singer Salvage yard. He parked the car in front of Bobby’s dilapidated home. “Please don’t fucking leave me here alone. Do I have to be the girlfriend who begs not be left alone.”

“You’re not alone. You’re with Bobby. And who said you’re my girlfriend again?” Dean snarked at her. 

She reached across the seat and punched his arm, “Bobby has his own life. He doesn’t want to babysit Limpy McCrutches.”

“Then you babysit him. He needs to be around people, get him out of the fucking house, take him bowling, binge Netflix or something…” Dean suggested. River laughed and looked towards the house. Bobby had rolled onto the front porch and sat silently watching the occupants of the Impala. 

“What if you find Pestilence or Death?”

“Then we’ll find a way to gank ‘em just like we did War and Famine.” Dean answered.

River sat heavily back in the seat and let out a long breath, looking down at the cast, “Levi fixed my hand in less than three days. There are twenty seven bones in the hand. I got two bones in my ankle broken and I’m benched for six fucking weeks.”

“Well, maybe you can spend your spare time learning some Pow-Wow. It might come in handy,” Sam said quietly. 

Dean added, “Six weeks, Sweetheart. Just stay here and stay the fuck out of trouble. Can you do that for me?”

“Fucking bullshit house arrest,” River cursed.

“Alright then, quit bitching and get out. Bobby’s starting to stare at us.” Dean told her smiling.


	51. Chapter 51

Ch 51

Dean had promised they would text or call her daily. Bobby had given the brothers a list of jobs to hit up while on the hunt for the Horsemen. Before they left, Dean had taken her into a dark corner of Bobby’s back hallway, tangling his hands in her hair and kissing her long and hard. “Stay here, stay safe. Please,” he had reiterated again after pulling away from her.

River wanted to tell him things were going to work out instead she gave him a half smile and said, “Where the hell else am I gonna go, Winchester? All my other friends are dead.” She let out a long breath and readjusted the crutches under her arms, “Like you said, I can’t hunt. I can’t run if something tries to eat me and I definitely don’t want to be another demon piñata so I’ll stay here at Fort Singer and get fat and lazy until my leg is better.”

He smiled down at her, “Good. I like extra padding.”

She ran her hands along his jacket, “Stay here or we can go somewhere else. Like the Grand Canyon, until our trench coat wearing blood hound sniffs out the super douches.”

“You and the Grand Canyon…” he laughed. “If we live through this shit it’ll be our first stop. I promise.”

“This shits our life, Winchester,” she replied. 

“Dean! Time to go!” Sam yelled from the kitchen. 

Dean leaned down, ran his lips gently over hers and murmured, “Our life.” She nodded silently. 

“Look, Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you’re ok girl,” Bobby said wheeling himself to the dining table where River sat watching Dean and Sam drive away through the dirty plate glass window. “But this ain’t gonna turn into some injured list pity party.”

“Pity parties are my favorite kind of party, Papa Bear,” River said smiling at him. 

River sighed and grabbed her crutches as the Impala disappeared between a precariously leaning tower of smashed cars and out of sight. She made her slow, staggered way from the cluttered dining area into the library. Her wrists aching with each swing of the crutches and halting step with her good leg. It was painfully apparent Bobby was going through a rough spot in the short time since everyone had gathered for a few hours of food, booze and music; trash and fast food wrappers littered the floor as did dozens of beer and whiskey bottles. River kicked a metal wastebasket towards the desk and started dumping empty liquor bottles into it. 

“Now, don’t go messin’ with my filing system,” Bobby grunted at her. “You start moving stuff and I’m not gonna be able to find anything.”

She shook her head, “Bobby I’m going to suffocate under all this clutter.” Dean had made her flush her remaining stockpile of pills down the toilet before they left the motel in Wyoming and she needed something to keep her busy. Something mundane to keep her mind too occupied to drift into the toxic wastelands of depression. Cleaning Bobby’s eternal bachelor pad seemed like a benign enough activity. She grabbed for an aged looking scroll that was laying partially open on top of a stack of books. Bobby suddenly rolled forwards and plucked it out of her hand.

“That’s something I’m workin’ on translating…” he mumbled tucking the scroll into his jacket. 

River nodded, “Yeah ok…” She watched as Bobby rolled out of the library then turned back to cleaning his desk. She glanced at the open books on his desk; lore on demon deals, End Time omens and Levi’s Bible. She picked up Levi’s bible and flipped through the pages, notes and spells were scribbled into every available space. River sighed and gently placed the Bible back on top of the nearest stack of books. Three trips to Bobby’s dumpster later and she had, at last, cleared all the trash from the library. Now she could work on organizing and sorting his hoard of literature. “One room down, six to go,” she muttered to herself looking back to the clutter covered kitchen.

Dean held up his promise and called River at least daily over the next two weeks. The brothers had smoked a Wendigo, a half dozen demons and ganked ‘The Bunny Man’ while on a side trip to Virginia. “I can’t believe you guys got ‘The Bunny Man’. I’m so jealous. Was he actually wearing the suit?” River asked. She and Bobby were lounging on his soft, lumpy couch watching movies while a thunder storm for the ages raged on outside.

“Yeah, he was. Freakiest damn shit I’ve seen in a while,” Dean answered.

“Did he have the ax?” The TV flickered with another epic clap of thunder and River glanced out the window behind the couch. The scrap yard was brilliantly lit with electric white light as lightening crashed somewhere on Bobby’s property. 

“Mmm-hmm, sharp as shit too,” he said biting down on his lip to deaden a grunt of pain as Sam stitched up the gash in his back.

“Did you get hurt?” she asked worriedly as more thunder shook the house. Bobby seemed unbothered by the storm and sat transfixed by the movie.

“No. I’m good. Just a scratch. What are you and the old man doing?” Dean answered. Sam laughed behind him as he continued the stitches. Dean had come within an inch of having his head cleaved in two by the Bunny Man’s ax. Sam had tossed the match and lit the serial killing spirit on fire a nanosecond before the edge of the blade made contact with his brothers skull. 

River leaned forward on the lumpy couch and picked up her coffee cup full of wine, “Me and Bobby are getting drunk on boxed wine and having a Drew Barrymore marathon.”

“Well you two idjits cut the chatter so I can finish my damn movie!” Bobby hollered on cue.

“Bobby’s having a moment with ‘Ever After’, don’t mind him,” River said quietly into the phone. “Where you guys headed to now?”

Sam patted Dean’s arm to let him know he was done and Dean rolled his shoulders testing the stitches. “Housatonic. Our old babysitter, Donna, called looks like she’s got an angry spirit on her hands.”

“Sure you don’t want to swing by and pick me up?” 

“Good try but no. Finish your movie and stay out of trouble. Talk to you tomorrow Princess.” 

“Be safe.” River told him goodbye and set the phone down next to her cup of wine. Bobby surreptitiously wiped tears off his face as Danielle and Henry finally got to live happily ever after. Another round of thunder shook the foundations of Bobby’s house finally knocking out the electricity just as the credits rolled. 

“God damn Bobby, are the storms always this bad?” River asked groping in the darkness for the flashlight she knew was stashed on the side of the couch.

“Only if it its gonna be a good storm season,” Bobby answered her before sliding back into his wheelchair. “Goodnight darlin’.” He rolled down the hallway relying on memory to maneuver around the piles of junk that lined the walls.

“Night Papa Bear,” she answered reaching her fingers under the cast to scratch an annoying itch. 

Dean didn’t call the next day but he did text and let her know they had made it to Massachusetts in one piece. They found Donna’s house and it indeed looked like she and her family were being harassed by an angry spirit. The ghost had attacked her young daughter, Katie, and scratched the words ‘murdered childe’ into her stomach. The brothers had encouraged Donna and her family to leave their home for a few days and let them take care of business. They now sat at a burger joint in town, utilizing the free WiFi and trying to find some legitimate information on the history of Donna’s house. Dean was trying to enjoy his bacon cheeseburger but was distracted by Sam’s incessant shaking of his ‘Lite Chicken Salad Shaker’. Sam felt his brothers annoyed eyes on him and set that shaker down. Even the zitty teenager manning the cash register was staring at him. “Don’t mind me. Shake it up baby.” Dean said.

Sam gave his brother a chagrined smile, pushed his long hair out of his face and finally tucked into his salad. “Donna looks good, huh,” He said after a few bites of salad. His eyes still scanning the website in front of him. “Didn’t you have a big time crush on her? I remember you would get so excited when Dad would tell us we were swinging by the Bay State for a case.” Sam’s eyes finally left the laptop screen and scanned the kid at the cash register. He was still openly staring at him and his brother. The kid, Jeremy per his clip-on name tag, was a non-entity as far as Sam could tell; 5’6” and 120 pounds of teenage angst wrapped up in a minimum wage uniform guaranteed to keep pussy at a 50 yard distance. Sam gave Jeremy a half smile and the kid turned away from the front counter and stiffly walked towards the deep fryer. 

Dean took another bite of his burger and nodded, “Yeah, that long blonde hair and round ass made many an appearance in 11-year-old Dean’s wet dreams.”

“Gross dude,” Sam muttered. 

Dean shrugged, “She looks good though, right? Family life seems to be treating’ her right. Hell of a lot better than the messy flings with Dad….You ever think about having something like that: a life, settling down with a wife, have a couple rugrats?”

Sam shook his head, “No. Not anymore…You? You and River made up again, you guys gonna make a go of it when things settle down. If things settle down?” 

Dean laughed and brushed crumbs off his fingertips, “We’re all gonna be dead in a couple months Sammy. The only thing I can do is try not to be a complete fucking dick to her again.”

“You really think we’re all gonna die?” Sam asked quietly. Dean avoided the question by clearing their table and nodding towards the door. Sam shut his laptop and let out a deep sigh once again noticing Jeremy staring at him. He was going to call out to the kid but his phone rang and he answered it instead. “Hey Riv, whats up?”

“Hey, Samsquach. I found a Sumerian tablet mixed in with Bobbys shit. I think its about talismanic locks. It’s gonna take me a while to translate it but maybe it’ll lead us in the right direction or any direction as to how we use those douchebags magic mood rings to lock Lucifers feathered ass back in the Pit,” River answered. She leaned over Bobbys now clean desk and stared down at the clay tablet. Her crutches forgotten against the wall a few feet away. 

Sam slid into the car next to his brother and said, “That might really help Riv. While you’re in the research mood you think you can try and dig up some info on a local legend, Maggie Briggs. She was a witch supposedly hung in the backyard of Donna’s house. I can’t find any info on where she might be buried.”

“Yeah I’ll look into but it’s gonna have to wait until later. Me and Bobby are going to get a pedicure. Do you think they’ll only charge me half on account of the cast?” River asked. The house gave a sudden shudder causing River’s carefully curated stacks of books to topple over. She let out a startled cry, losing her balance as the ground rolled and fell to the hard floor. She heard Bobby curse in the next room and Sam’s frantic voice echo over her dropped phone. 

“What the hell happened?” Dean barked. 

Sam put the phone on speaker and both brothers took turns yelling, “River!”

She finally picked up her phone, “Fuck I’m here. Calm down. Just another earthquake.”

“Since when are there earthquakes in South Dakota?” Dean yelled.

“I’m not a fucking seismologist, D. Bobby says they’re fracking in the next county maybe thats what it is. Maybe it’s an omen...Either way me and Bobby can handle it, after our pedicure.”

“You aren’t handling shit, River. You’re recuperating,” Dean yelled at the phone.

“Yeah, ok Dean. We gotta go before Linh Hahn’s gets busy with the blue-hairs from the senior center. I’ll text you if I find anything on the witch bitch,” River told them before disconnecting the call.

“Son of a bitch. You think it’s an omen,” Dean asked.

“I can look into it later. Lets finish this case for Donna and then we’ll see if there’s anything brewing in South Dakota,” Sam told him. The salt and burn in Housatonic was pretty straight forward once they found Maggie’s body. What wasn’t so straight forward was the trio of underage witch wannabes led by none other than Jeremy the burger flipper. Jeremy cast a ‘Freaky Friday’ spell in which he switched bodies with Sam. It took a good twenty-four hours for Dean to catch on that his brothers sudden indulgence in bacon cheeseburgers, booze and blonde cougars wasn’t Sam’s way of letting off months of pent of frustration. After beating the snot out of the little snot riding around in his brothers meat suit and running into a few less than friendly demons the kids explained to the Winchesters that they were merely trying to cash in on a bounty. A bounty that had been placed on Dean’s head by none other than Lucifer himself. Dean’s likeness, last known whereabouts, and aliases had been spammed to every coven, demon nest and monster hangout on the planet.

“Look Jeremy, I just want us to be crystal clear on one thing,” Dean glowered down at the nervous teenager, his green eyes almost black with suppressed anger. “If you and your friends were of voting age you would be dead. Because me and my brother would have killed you. And now I got your name and your address so don’t be surprised if you see me roll into town occasionally because if I so much as get a whisper you dipshits are up to black magic fuckery again I will kill you.” He took one menacing step forward, “Let me know now if any of thats not jiving with you.”

“No…no sir,” Jeremy cleared his throat nervously. His two friends were wide eyed and teary behind him. One of them sniffed loudly and wiped the sleeve of her dirty hoody across her frightened tear streaked face.“We understand. No more black magic fuckery.” Dean nodded to his brother and they climbed back into the Impala leaving the trio of ex-witch wannabes to walk home in the drizzling rain. 

“Well that was entertaining. But uh…you might want to get swabbed or something at our next stop,” Dean said as they drove away.

“What?” Sam demanded. 

“You…Jeremy took home a skeevy lookin’ MILF last night.” Dean nodded, “Yeah, sorry. I thought she wasn’t your type but you know…maybe it was a beggars-can’t-be-choosers type of situation. And who am I to cockblock?”

“Thanks dude,” Sam grumbled suddenly very aware he did have a strange itching sensation in his crotch. He pulled out his phone to check for any messages from River or otherwise; seeing none he decided to give her and Bobby a call to update.

“Who are you calling?” Dean asked checking his watch. It was almost 3am and normal people would have been asleep hours ago. 

Sam shifted in his seat, not sure if the itch in his pants was real or his own neurosis at not knowing who his body had had sex with. “We haven’t checked in with River. I want to give her and Bobby a heads up on the ‘Hells Most Wanted’ reward.”

“No. Don’t do that. Definitely not over the phone. I’ll tell her about it in person when we swing by Sioux Falls,” Dean said. Demons and every other nefarious character would be gunning for the reward. The less reasons he gave River to jump ship at Bobby’s and look for trouble the better. 

Sam tucked the phone in his pocket and let a long breath, “Dean you’ve got to tell her.”

“I will. Just not right now, ok? Can we just try and survive the next couple of weeks?” he said to his brother. “We stay away from any cases that seem witchy or demonic, unless its Pestilence or Death. We just have to hope no one recognizes my handsome mug if they run into us.” 

Sam brushed his hair out of his face, “Yeah I guess.”

The brothers spent another week blowing through towns, scratching cases off Bobby’s list. The weird weather in and around Sioux Falls seemed to lift. Bobby and River growing more accustomed to their own less than perfect routine, meaning Bobby usually passing out drunk in his wheelchair in front of the small desk in his room, the long archaic scroll laid out in front of him. River had tried several times to lay eyes on it again but even in the deepest drudges of his alcohol induced stupor Bobby would will himself awake and hide the scroll away. River worked on the Sumerian tablet even getting most of it translated before she realized it had nothing to do with Talismanic locks and everything to do with an ancient spell for better crops. “Son of a bitch,” River muttered angrily tossing the useless tablet back into the chest she had dug it out of. 

She grabbed her crutches and headed upstairs to Dean’s old room. The cast on her leg was driving her insane, the weight and unwieldiness of it, the crutches constantly under her arms and the near incessant itching that she just couldn’t reach. Her broken ribs had healed, the bruises faded, the scars on her wrists were shiny and pale. She had taken to covering them up with strings of Stevie Nicks-esque bracelets she had picked up at the weekly swap meet in town. The cattle prod ,however, had left lasting damage; a dozen or so scattered burn scars littered the other wise pale landscape of her body. She stared angrily at the raised red and pink burns marring her back, abdomen and thighs. When Gabriel had healed the ugly scars on her abdomen, erasing the constant reminder of her worst attacks, she had been relieved. Now Harob had left his own permanent marks on her body. Perpetual reminders of Levi’s murder and her own human weakness. How easy would it have been to just say ‘yes’? Become an all powerful witch, use the power to try and take down Lucifer and then be damned to eternal torment in Hell. River shivered in the warm room. Hell was definitely not on her top 10 dream vacations.

Her phone rang just as she was curling up with a book and getting ready for bed. It was Dean checking-in, he or Sam had yet to miss a day of communicating with her in some way. The brothers had run into a dry spell with cases and Dean had relayed that they were thinking about wasting a couple days in Atlantic city. “We haven’t made the annual Winchester Vegas weekend in a couple years. Atlantic city’s the next best thing and we won’t be all the way on the West Coast if shit hits the fan.”

“Go. Play blackjack, pool shark for a while, hit a strip club or three because it looks like my career as a pole dancer is once again over,” River sighed. “I look like I got attacked by radioactive mosquitos. I can’t cover this shit up with glitter or makeup. I’m back to being broke... Maybe I can stand at freeway off ramps with a sign that says ‘will kill monsters for food and ammo’.”

“You really think I’d let you strip anymore? I almost had a fucking aneurysm watching you and your ass up on that pole.” He said stretching uncomfortably on the stiff motel bed. Sam was dead to the world in the bed next to him, earbuds in and completely tuned out for now. “What are you wearing?” he asked, suddenly bored and lonely.

River laughed, “Something incredibly tight, low cut and lacy. I’ve been eating ice cream for breakfast for the last week and it’s all gone to my tits and ass. Too bad you’re not here to enjoy it.”

“Smart ass,” Dean muttered. “How’s your leg feel?”

“I don’t know. Itchy. Heavy….why don’t you and Sam come home? If Cas finds anything he’ll let you know. I miss you. I’m bored. South Dakota sucks.”

“Maybe after we run amok in Atlantic city. I think I’m gonna call it a night…unless you wanna have phone sex?” Dean asked and she could hear the mischievous tone in his voice. 

She laughed again, “No. Sorry, Winchester. Sam woke up half way through last time; totally killed the mood remember?” Dean groaned. “Just save up all that pent up sexual frustration for a while and I promise I’ll give you a lap dance once the cast comes off.” 

“Send me a nude at least,” Dean begged. River snorted laughter and hung up on him.

His phone dinged with a text alert just as he drifting to sleep. “Delete this immediately or I will murder you,” Rivers text read. The phone dinged again with another message and Dean choked on his tongue. Even in the photo he could see the nervous pink blush across her cheeks; she wore one of his flannel shirts and nothing else. His mind floated in a thousand different directions as he finally fell asleep. He dreamt of River and her promise. He watched slack jawed as she danced. The same woman that couldn’t carry a tune to save her life, lived in layers of jeans and band shirts, and constantly tripped over her own feet when she wore high heels was stalking slowly towards him. Her round hips swaying in time with the music, wearing shiny black high heels shoes that served no discernible real life purpose and a bedazzled thong she normally wouldn’t be caught dead in. But hell it was his dream and he was going to enjoy it. She quietly sang along with the AC/DC song echoing in his dream. The dream club was empty except for him. She sat on his lap arching her back into his chest and grinding her ass into his crotch “Shit, Princess. You’re gonna get me thrown outta this place,” Dean groaned his hands trailing up her sides, down her thighs, fingers sliding down the tiny piece of fabric covering her sex. 

She looked over her shoulder at him and smirked, “No touching the girls, Hot Stuff.”

“Yeah, but you’re my girl,” he murmured into her hair.

“This is what you dream of?” A bemused, silvery voice broke Dean’s trance. Instantly River was gone and standing a few feet in front of him was none other than the angel, Anna.

“Anna?” Dean said shocked. It had been months since they had seen the crimson haired angel. She had completely disappeared after River confronted her in the Impala on their way to rescue Castiel’s vessel, Jimmy. “This is very awkward,” he added under his breath shifting on the plush couch to hide his erection. Anna’s lips twitched into a knowing smile. “Why are you gate-crashing my head? This dream was just about to get interesting. Can’t you swing by the hotel in the morning?”

“Dean, I’m in your head because I can’t find you.” She answered sitting down next to him.

Dean nodded, “Oh yeah, shit. Cas did this thing…where the hell have you been anyways?”

“I’ve been in prison. Upstairs. I just broke out,” Anna’s dark eyes were worried. “Castiel didn’t tell you. Of course not. Why would he?” she continued under her breath.

“Prison? Are you ok?” he asked.

“Yeah. For the most part. Castiel, set me up. I got caught because of him. He was always such a good little soldier,” she said her voice dripping with contempt.

“Things are different now, Anna. You have to know that. Cas fell from Heaven to help us. He’s cut off and we could really use another Angel on our side just about now. I can get River to sheathe the claws if it’s for greater good.”

“Look, Dean. I’m not here on a social call. I need your help,” Anna voice faltered and for a moment Dean remembered the young mortal woman she had been before her grace was returned.

He nodded, “Yeah. Of course. What can I do?”

Anna smiled gratefully, “Meet me at 225 Industrial and hurry. The other Angels are searching for me and I can’t let them find me.” Dean woke with a startled grunt. He ran one hand along his jaw, reaching the other towards his phone on the nightstand. He kicked at one of Sam’s long legs waking his brother as he called Castiel.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel answered almost immediately. 

“Cas, we need to talk. We’re at the New Dawn Inn room 213,” Dean told him. The Angel appeared before him a second later. Sam sat up on his bed groggily, checking the alarm clock with disgust. 

Dean tucked his cellphone into his pocket and glared at the Angel, “Guess who just took a stroll through my head?” Cas raised his eye brows quizzically. “Anna. Anna who just tunneled out of Heaven’s version of Shawshank.”

“Dean, are you saying Anna told you she escaped from Heaven?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying Cas. And she needs our help. You handed her over to those feathered dickbags.”

“Dean, I was under orders,” Cas told him. “There is no way Anna escaped. If she is out it’s because they let her out. What exactly did she tell you?”

“Nothing. Just gave me an address where she wants us to meet her,” Dean answered.

“Alright, then let’s go,” Sam said. 

“No. You two will stay here. I’ll make sure it’s as she says,” Castiel told the brothers. He disappeared with a flap of his wings causing the curtains to flutter in his wake.

Sam yawned loudly, “I’m going back to sleep. Wake me up if we got a job to do.” 

Castiel touched down in the abandoned building. Long dead lightbulbs brightening then exploding in showers of electric sparks as he snapped his wings tightly against his body. Anna stood waiting for him. “So the Winchesters don’t trust me?”

Castiel smiled wryly, “No they do. I don’t. I wouldn’t let them come.”

Anna nodded, “Castiel, I want to help. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Cas’s cool blue eyes narrowed, “No, Anna. If you’re here. It’s because they sent you. Zachariah or one of the others is pulling your strings.”

“Where are they?” Anna asked smiled thinly.

“Somewhere safe, somewhere you or the others can’t find them. Tell me, Anna, why do you have that knife.” Castiel asked slowly circling his former commander.

Anna reached one lithe arm behind her and pulled a dagger from her belt loop. “Am I not allowed to protect myself, Castiel?”

“That knife won’t work on Angels. But mine will,” Castiel’s Angel blade dropped into his hand from within the long sleeve of his trench coat. “Anna, what’s your angle? I haven’t the time or patience for this.”

“I know how this all ends Cas. Dean can’t stop it. There is only one way to stop it… Lucifer can not take his true vessel. Sam Winchester must die.”

Castiel shook his head, “There are other vessels.“

“Other vessels? You mean that decaying corpse, Nick? Lucifer’s grace is barely keeping that thing together. He needs Sam and he will stop at nothing to get him. If Sam is gone Lucifer’s entire plan is short-circuited. The Horsemen will go back to their day jobs. There will be no Croatoan virus.”

“Even if you did kill Sam, Lucifer would bring him back to life.” Castiel said.

Anna smiled, “Not if I scatter his cells across the universe. Lucifer will never find all of him. Then the world is safe for a few more millennia.”

“No. There is another way. We will find it,” he said adamantly.

“The Colt? Finding God? How are those plans working? Oh, right they aren’t. These humans you care so much about are going to continue to die. And for what? We can end this tonight.”

“Anna, I was honored to serve with you. At your side and under your command. But if you come anywhere near Sam Winchester I will kill you.” Castiel warned her his Angel blade still gripped tightly and hanging at his side. She nodded once and disappeared. Castiel made a side trip to Syria and Crete for a few specific items before returning to the Winchesters motel room. Sam’s big form was once again splayed out on his bed, his pillow pressed over his head to mute the lights and noise from the TV. Dean was channeling surfing to kill time while the pot of coffee he had put on to brew percolated on the counter next to the chipped sink. It was a little after 3am according to the clock on the nightstand. He had considered calling River to update her but decided against it. If Anna couldn’t find him and his brother because of Cas’s warding she couldn’t track River either. And even if Anna did pop into River’s head he was sure his redhead would drop-kick the Angel into the stratosphere before giving her their location. 

Castiel reappeared in their room causing the TV to short circuit and the lamps to flicker. “So?” Dean asked as Castiel set his bundles of dried herbs and a Kambaba Jasper crystal on the small dining table in the center of the room. Sam once again stirred and sat up on the foot of his bed, the brothers watching as Castiel drew an Enochian sigil on the table and began to grind the herbs into a fine powder with an ancient rough hewn pestle and mortar.

“Anna is not to be trusted. She plans to kill Sam in an attempt to deprive Lucifer of his one true vessel and stop his march towards Armageddon.” 

Dean ran his hands through his hair, “Just couldn’t keep my dick in my pants. I knew sooner or later I’d run into a Glenn Close.”

“What’s a Glenn Close?” Castiel asked sniffing his concoction of herbs. 

“A psycho bunny boiling bitch,” Dean answered.

Sam leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees and watched the angel work. “Would it work, Cas? If Anna kills me, would it stop Lucifer?” Dean shot his brother a worried look then turned his green eyes towards Castiel. 

The Angel shook his head, “It’s not an option.” He lit a candle and dripped the wax in an intricate pattern around the crystal. 

“What are you doing?” Dean asked him.

“We need to find Anna. This spell will help me track her,” Castiel answered.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to go searching for the Angel gone Terminator?”

“Dean, I served with Anna for thousands of years. She is singular in her endeavors, it’s what made her such a strong leader. She will not stop until Sam is dead. I must find her first and kill her.” Castiel recited the Enochian incantation and the sigil and crystal caught fire. He stared intently into the acrid smoke for several tense moments. “Damn it. I’ve found her.”

“Where the hell is she?” Dean asked.

“No where. When. She’s in 1978,” Castiel answered.

Sam stood up from the bed, “I wasn’t even born yet. What the hell is she doing in 1978?”

“Mom and Dad,” Dean answered. Castiel nodded, “She can’t get to you because of me. So she’s going after your parents. I have to go now and stop her.”

“No way Cas. You’re not going alone. That bitch crossed the 38th parallel going after our mom and dad.” Dean told him.

“Dean’s right, Cas. This is our fight.” Sam added. 

Castiel sighed, “Time travel is…difficult even with Heaven’s full power behind me. I’m alone on this and taking both of you with me could complicate things immensely.”

“Thanks for the words of encouragement, Doc Brown. Lets hop in the Delorean and fuck up the time-space continuum,” Dean said smiling.

“I have no idea what any of that means.” Castiel sighed checking his pocket for his Angel blade, “ This may be unpleasant.” He grabbed Dean and Sam by the shoulders and before they could steel themselves there was a great rushing of air as if they were being sucked into a vacuum, their ears popped painfully and then they the landed in Lawrence, Kansas circa 1978. The brothers glanced at each other none the worse for wear; the trip hadn’t been that bad. Castiel landed next to them a second later, let out a pained groan then vomited a mouthful of blood at their feet and passed out. 

Several states away River screamed herself awake. The dream playing out again and again, seared into her memory. She closed her eyes focusing on the images Zachariah has shown her. The smug, self assured Angel had popped in uninvited and taken her to Detroit. “If you love him you will help him see that there is only one way to stop Lucifer. He can’t win alone. Michael is waiting for him but his patience grows thin,” he gave her one final shit-eating smirk. “Watch how your world ends.” 

It was after midnight in the city. Street lamps flickered here and there, the only sounds were their feet slamming against the asphalt as they ran through the streets. Her lungs burned. She wanted to stop and ask what the hell was going on. But Deans hand encircled hers in a ife or death grip. “Run baby run,” he yelled and jerked her forward. The sky above them flared alight as if the sun was rising a billion miles too close. A flash of orange and white soared towards one another a thousand miles above the city. The lights collided and the force created a sonic boom that caused every widow in a 100 mile radius to explode. Glass rained down around them, shards cutting their exposed arms and face, getting stuck in their hair. People rushed into the streets, screams of panic and terror rising to the heavens. The ground shook, buildings crumbled and fell to the ground around them with the after shock of the sonic boom. Then silence. Absolute silence. The terror stricken people that had not been crushed to death were frozen in place staring up at the blinding orange-red light that now filled the sky. Then a new sound bubbled up, sounds of feral, hate filled snarls as the people around them started attacking one another. Blood and gore filled the streets and still she and Dean continued to run, barreling through and over bodies, around chunks of fallen apartment buildings. They jumped into the Impala, Dean kicked her into gear and with a screech of tires blasted them away from The Motor City. She had turned around in her seat, watching as the orange-red light drifted to the ground. A figure appeared in the middle of the light and even through the distance she knew who it was. The shaggy auburn hair, the ridiculous height and the once friendly, soft hazel eyes belonged to none other that Sam Winchester. 

The house around her remained silent. Her screams had apparently not woken Bobby out of his drunken stupor. She glanced at her phone checking the time and making sure she didn’t have any missed messages or calls before tucking into one of the pockets of the shorts she had worn to bed. She hadn’t heard from the brothers in a few days and figured they must have made it to Atlantic City. “Fuck you, Zachariah. You sanctimonious piece of shit,” she muttered grabbing her crutches from the foot of the bed. She made her way down the stairs and into Bobby’s kitchen where she started a pot of coffee. The ground vibrated suddenly causing dishes in the cabinets to rattle. Just as quickly the rattling stopped and the coffee maker beeped signaling it was done.

She was half way through her fourth cup of coffee when Bobby rolled in. “Mornin’,” he grunted. River tipped her coffee cup in a return greeting. “Earthquake wake you?” 

She laughed, “I’m from Southern California, Bobby. You and I have very different definitions of earthquakes.” A quick knock at the front door drew the attention of the hunters. “You expecting company?” River asked him.

“I’m never expecting company,” he answered quietly. They made their way as quietly as they could, River’s crutches making halting thumps on the wood floor, the wheels on Bobby’s chair squeaking. A blurry shadow stood in front of the thick, bullet proof glass on Bobby’s front door. The older hunter grabbed two shotguns from the umbrella rack near his desk, knowing they were loaded but checking them anyways before handing River one. 

The figure outside the door shifted impatiently. “River McGregor I know you in ‘dere girl. Come on out naw.” The woman outside yelled in a thick Creole Accent.

“Fuck,” River muttered. “Ursula, is that you?” she yelled in return.

“How many udder VooDoo priestesses you know girl? Now open da door so we can talk like friends or so help me I rip it off da house.” River tilted her head towards Bobby and they both pumped their shotguns. 

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing here Ursula. But this is your one and only chance to leave in peace or so help me I’ll send you home to Papa Legba.” River threatened. Ursula laughed, a high pitched noise completely void of any humor. Bobby’s reinforced front door screeched loudly then flew back from the hinges. Early morning sunlight filtered around the woman standing on the porch. Her long braided hair was perched in a giant bun on her head. High cheekbones and flawless tawny skin making her stunningly beautiful. But her eyes glowed from within with a deep menacing purple light. 

“Where is Dean Winchester?” she demanded walking across the threshold of Bobby’s front door.

Things in 1978 didn’t exactly go with out a few hiccups. Anna didn’t kill John or Mary Winchester. It’s not that she didn’t try because she did. She would have succeeded to if not for the Archangel Michael intervening. John Winchester, in a moment of desperation had given the Archangel consent to enter his body in order to save his wife. Michael killed Anna, erased John and Mary’s memories and before sending Sam and Dean back to their present had a heart to heart with the elder brother. “I promise you Dean, if you give yourself to me I can stop Lucifers campaign to end your world. I can send him back to the Pit and when I am done I will leave you. You will be whole, unharmed and allowed to live the rest of your life how you see fit.” 

Dean smirked and shook his head, “No. Not gonna happen. We’ll figure something else out. Something that doesn’t include half the planet being burned alive while you and your douchebag brother duke it out.”

Michael smiled, “Dean, you’re still acting as though you have a choice in all of this. Free Will is an illusion. This is God’s plan, it was set in motion thousands of years ago. Every step you have taken and still have to take, every choice you have made and will make brings you closer to your destiny. Brings you closer to me. See you soon, Dean.” Before Dean could reply the Archangel sent him and his brother back to their motel room. A quick check of their phones revealed they had been gone for almost three days.

“I’m going to be in such deep shit with River,” Dean muttered. He had to give her some excuse for his sudden absence. 

“How about you just tell her what the hell is going on?” Sam told him. 

“I don’t really think it’s a conversation we should have over the phone: hey babe, guess what? I gotta a demon bounty on my head. And do you remember Anna? The Angel I screwed behind your back? Well she went full Terminator and tried to murder my brother and our parents. But good news is Michael smote her to shit. Oh and we are still completely screwed.”

“I think that’s a good enough summary of our current situation,” Sam replied. Dean didn’t have to calling River though. She ended up calling him.

“Hey, sweetheart. I was…I was just about to call you,” Dean said into the phone. 

River let out along annoyed breath, tucking a sweaty piece of hair behind her ear. She stared down at Castiel’s brown trench coat. The Angel had appeared before her mumbling incoherently before collapsing on Bobby’s kitchen floor. “Hi, sugar lips, I got a funny story to tell you. If you have time but time is relevant, right? Not so much linear but more wibbly-wobbly.”

“Shit,” Dean muttered. He was in deep for sure. “How’d you-“

“How’d I know you went back in time to save your parents from ‘Glenn Close’? ”

Dean threw Sam a pleading look. Sam shrugged his shoulders and cracked open a bottle of whiskey. “Cas must’ve made it back alright….”

“Alright? Yeah I guess if by alright you mean he’s currently comatose on Bobby’s kitchen floor. I should probably tuck a pillow or something under his head….” River added wiping her dirty hands on her jeans. “Oh yeah my funny story. You ready for it? ‘cause it’s a fucking doozie.”

Dean grabbed the bottle of whiskey from his brother and took a long pull from it, “Yeah, Princess I think I’m as ready as I’m gonna be.”

“So I don’t know if I ever got around to telling you all the shenanigans I got up to while you were Down Under,” River started. “All sorts of stupid shit. Made friends in low, shady places. Places I thought could get me to you. One of those places was New Orleans. I headed down to swamp land to tackle a coven of witches that supposedly had a Necronomicon. A real one…” She paused to nudge Cas’s unconscious form with her cast. He grunted but remained asleep.  
“Anyways got down to New Orleans and the coven was already dead. Apparently there had been some sort of turf war between the Grand Witch and some Voodoo queen named Ursula. I went to Ursula to see about the Necronomicon but she had already destroyed it. Me and Ursula hit it off; she was cool mama jama extremely powerful, old and full of all sorts of dark knowledge. I was actually headed back down to New Orleans the day Cas busted you out to summon a couple big wig Loa’s.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, “I remember. You and Bobby talked about it.”

“Mmm-hmm, well obviously I never went back to Ursula. Haven’t seen or heard from her in what? Year and a half, two years? Time flies. Until this morning when she showed the fuck up on Bobby’s front porch.…”

“Baby, what happened?” Dean asked his voice tight with worry.

“When the fuck were you going to tell me about the bounty!” River yelled. “Maybe a fucking heads up would’ve been nice, Dean. Instead I’ve got to hear about it from a two hundred year old Voodoo Queen!”

“River-“

“Do you have any god damn idea how hard it is to kill a Voodoo priestess and make sure she stays the fuck dead! Let alone doing it with one good leg and Bobby ‘Hell on squeaky wheels’ Singer as my side kick?” River yelled again.

“Actually, I don’t,” Dean replied calmly.

“Well let me fucking enlighten the two of you because I can hear Sam laughing in the background….37 rounds of salt and silver buck shot to start with. Then I had to cut her up in little pieces with a machete coated in lambs blood. Then…then I had to burn the bits and pieces to make a special offering to the Loa’s that guard the four winds and beg them not to return her very fucking pissed off soul to the land of the living.” River took a long angry breath through her nose.

“How’d she even find you?” Dean asked.

“How the fuck should I know, Dean? I’m not an expert in Voodoo,” River replied. 

“What about the rest of her coven? Aren’t they gonna be a little miffed you ganked Ursula?”

River scoffed, “Yeah I’m actually not worried about them. I FedExed Urusla’s heart back to them with 13 iron nails in it as a fucking warning to stay the fuck away from me and my family.”

“That’s uhh…that’s very harsh,” Dean said. 

“I have my fucking moments, Winchester.” River replied. She let out a deep breath, her ankle gave an angry throb and she sat heavily in one of Bobby’s rickety kitchen chairs. Rufus’s laugh echoed from Bobby’s sitting room. The other hunter had shown up just as River and Bobby were dragging Ursula’s bullet riddled body down the wheelchair ramp. “Oh, also Rufus came by and wanted to know how pissed I’d be if he cashed in on your bounty.”

“How the hell does Rufus know about it?” Dean asked.

“Because he knows things, Dean. Just nothing useful like where the hell the Horseman are hiding…Speaking of I think you should check out this list of flu cases I downloaded from the CDC.” River pulled her lap top towards her and turned it on. Castiel murmured something in Enochian in his sleep. “Looks like the Lóng Fāshāo strain has mutated…again. Death toll is lower than it was in China but people are noticing and getting scared. Flu shots are out of stock all over the country right now but some Med-Tech company is promising a vaccine in the next couple of weeks.”

“Doubt it’s gonna do any good if Pestilence is behind it,” Sam said tiredly turning on his own laptop on and waiting for River’s email.

“It could be a lead, could be a waste of time. The cast is coming off in two weeks so…just me keep me and Bobby in the loop. I’ll let Cassie know whats up when he wakes up,” she told them.


	52. Chapter 52

Ch 52

There was another big thunder storm the following night causing the windows to rattle so hard River was afraid they would shatter. The electricity was knocked out following a bolt of lightening so strong it wouldn’t have been surprising if Thor himself threw it. The entire town was plunged into an eerie darkness. As if the storm wasn’t bad enough, the earth decided to throw another temper tantrum. It was well after midnight when the ground started shaking. River skidded down the stairs almost running into Bobby where he sat in his wheelchair, frozen in place as his house shook on its foundations. Books fell from shelves, dishes and cups fell out of cupboards shattering into a million pieces on the kitchen floor, and a stack of crushed cars toppled over in the junkyard. River grabbed the handlebars of Bobby’s wheelchair and limped them into the kitchen doorway. The rolling and shaking lasted for several long moments. “Now that was an earthquake,” River smiled at Bobby once the ground stopped shaking. 

He grumbled, “Keep yer god damn earthquakes in California.” He rolled his wheelchair down the dark hallway under the stairs towards his room. 

“I’ll clean this mess up in the morning, Papa Bear. I can’t see shit right now,” River called out as she climbed tiredly back up the stairs to her room. The power came back on sometime after dawn. River didn’t notice because for once she slept in; blankets pulled up over her head to block the sunlight peeking in through the thin curtains. When she did finally drag herself out of bed she heard muffled voices drifting through the vents in the floor. “Maybe Rufus is back,” she thought yawning and stretching her stiff back. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and frowned at the ‘NO SERVICE’ signal flashing at the top of the screen. She staggered around her room, cellphone held out in front of her hoping to get at least one bar of reception. “God damn it,” she muttered. “Fucking middle of nowhere hicksville.” She tucked her phone into her pocket, crutches under her arms and headed downstairs. Faint humming drifted up the stairwell as did the scent of apples and cinnamon. “Papa Bear, you got any cell service? I think my phone crapped out.” River called out to the humming voice in the kitchen. She gave a cursory glance around the sitting room and saw that the piles of fallen books had been picked up. “Hey, I told you I’d clean the mess up, “ she said to Bobby as he rolled into the sitting room. He hastily closed the doors separating them from the kitchen. The humming voice continued from the other side of the door. 

“Hey girl we gotta talk,” Bobby mumbled. River looked down at him eyebrows raised questioningly; he had brushed his hair and was wearing a crisp dress shirt and clean slacks. Even his grimy wheelchair had been hastily wiped down. 

“Who’s in the kitchen?” River asked taking a deep breath through her nose, “And are they baking apple pie?”

The doors slid open and a smiling woman appeared. Her shoulder length blonde hair was twisted up out of her face. Her yellow and white gingham house dress was dusted with flour as were her pale hands. “Bobby, do we have any more vanilla?” She asked. River stared at the stranger for several tense seconds. The woman’s face was friendly enough, her smile wide and inviting. But the tint of her skin was unnaturally pale tinged in jaundiced yellow.

“Who the hell are you? Bobby, who the hell is this?” River demanded. The woman dusted her hands off on her white apron and stepped forward. 

“I’m Karen Singer, Bobby’s wife,” she said holding one hand out in front of her, the other she placed gently on Bobby’s shoulder. River’s hand tightened around the rubber grips of her crutches and she looked down to Bobby. Searching for some sign that this was a joke or maybe another Angelic dream. Karen’s smile held fast. Bobby’s eyebrows drew together tight lines appearing between them.

“River.” To an outsider, Bobby’s tone would have sounded firm but neutral. To those that knew Bobby Singer they would know he had just issued a warning: stand down and back off. A muscle in her jaw twitched, she flicked her blue eyes down to Bobby then back to the smiling woman standing next to him. “This is River McGregor, sweetheart. She’s staying with me. With us, until her leg is healed. River shake my wife’s hand. Don’t act like you don’t got any manners.”

River wiped her sweaty hand on her shirt and shuffled forward. She grabbed Karen’s hand in her own and grimaced at the cold flesh. Before Karen could withdraw her hand River latched onto it, crutches clattering to the floor as she used the first two fingers on her other hand to check the pulse in Karen’s wrist. There was none. “You’re dead.” She stated evenly. It was not a threat but merely a statement of profound fact.

Karen’s smile finally faltered. “I…I was. Bobby told me-”

“No. You are. You have no pulse. You’re not breathing. You’re room temperature. Your pupils are fixed and dilated. You. Are. Dead. And yet here you are walking, talking and baking apple pie.” River said, her voice chipped and tight. 

“That apple pie sure does smell amazing sweetheart. River, how ‘bout you let Karen go get that pie outta the oven,” Bobby said quietly. River released her grip on the dead woman and she retreated to the kitchen, sliding the doors closed behind her.

“What the fuck! What the fucking fuck, Bobby!” River hissed grabbing the collar of his dress shirt. “You gotta fucking zombie making baked goods and you let me sleep in!”

“Now you listen to me, girl!” Bobby warned in the same quiet tone, leaning forward and almost lifting himself out of his seat. “That is my wife! And I don’t know how or why she’s back but she is! And I’ll be god-damned if you’re gonna talk about her that way.”

“That is not your wife! That is a zombie,” River repeated picking her crutches off the floor. The humming started again and River looked towards the closed kitchen doors. 

“River, there are zombies and then there are zombies. Karen…my wife, I killed her back before I knew all the things I know now. She was possessed and I killed her. And for some reason I’ve got her back and so help me if you try anything-“ Bobby was cut off when Karen slid the doors open.

“Pie’s done, So is the coffee. River would you like any?” she asked. 

River took a deep breath. “No thank you Mrs Singer.” She said before turning and stomping out of the sitting room. She headed towards Bobby’s computer desk and the row of phones he used for his various aliases. She took each phone off their respective cradles (FBI, CIA, CDC, TSA) and was met with dull, crackling static. Next she turned on her lap top but got a connection error when she tried to log into her email. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered angrily. River rubbed her eyes tiredly before setting sights on the dusty police scanner half buried under a pile of crumpled papers.

After retreating to her room to get dressed and grab a gun she hobbled her way out of the house. She commandeered a red pickup truck from Bobby’s collection of vehicles and headed towards town. Her cellphone lay on her lap so she could check if the cell signal reappeared when she got closer to town. It didn’t take long to find the culprit behind the lack of cell service that plagued Sioux Falls. The giant cell tower that had been half heartedly designed to look like a Ponderosa Pine tree now lay in a twisted, smoking heap on the edge of a new sink hole near Main street as did the remains of a couple telephone poles that were casualties when the metal tree had fallen. Yellow caution tape and several city vehicles were parked around the perimeter of the mess. River rolled down her window and yelled at the closest hardhat wearing individual, “What the hell happened?”

The man ambled up to her open window, “Damndest thing. Looks like it got struck with lightening and then that earthquake last night must’ve done some damage to it’s foundation. Fried every telephone line in town.”

River blew out an annoyed breath, a sick feeling of dread spreading through her stomach. “How long ‘till it’s fixed?”

The man sighed and shrugged his shoulders, “Week or so probably. We gotta get a crew together and ride over to the next town to call the state office for some assistance then we gotta wait for the state to bring us the equipment…” River rolled up the window waiving him away with an annoyed flick of her hand. She found a quiet dirt road to park the truck on and her bearings on the case. Because this was officially a case. They had too much going on, too many players to contend with to ignore dead wives rising and ungodly weather. She needed to gather facts and make a plan of attack. The phones were down. The internet was down. But she had Bobby’s police scanner. She turned it on and dialed through the various channels listening for anything intriguing. “Sheriff Mills, this car 229 we got some reported disturbances at the cemetery,” a tinny voice finally gave her something interesting to follow.

“This is Mills, 229. Go ahead and see what Mr. Johnson’s complaining about now and report back.” A woman’s voice answered. River scribbled down a quick note and continued to listen. It wasn’t long before the calls started to rack up. “This is car 317 we got a possible 187 at the trailer park. Looks like Roger Smith.” 

“Sheriff Mills, this is Deputy Hanson. Digger’s says he saw Curt Winslow crawl into Roger’s house last night through a broken window.”

“This is Mills, you tell Digger I’m coming to interview him and he better be sober.” Bingo, River thought to herself. She had a plan: head to the cemetery to see what the disturbance was, go check out the 187 and the witness then find out the last known whereabouts of the suspect. She drove back through town and parked at the cemetery. The muddy earth making the trek extra difficult with the crutches. She wound her way through the rows of graves noticing piles of disturbed earth until she came upon a patrol car. 

“Digger, I don’t know what you think you’re playing at but I will not have you start rumors flying in my town,” A female sheriff deputy stood in front of a young man. He was leaning lazily on a shovel and nodding his head.

“Jody,” he started.

She held up her hand to cut him off, “Sheriff Mills.”

“Sheriff Mills, they ain’t rumors if they’re true! I saw Curt crawl his muddy ass through Roger’s bathroom window. My trailer is right next to his-“

“Curt is dead, Digger. Has been for five years,” Sheriff Mills said.

Digger sighed, “What about the graves, Jody? I’m up to thirty-seven that’s been messed with, the dirts all moved around. Including Owen’s.”

“Enough, Digger. I’m not gonna warn you again. You talk about this with anyone else and I’m gonna toss your ass in a holding cell,” Sheriff Mills told him angrily turning away from the grave digger. River waited until the patrol car was out of sight before approaching the man. He eagerly ignored Sheriff Mills warning and spilled everything he had seen the night prior. Digger also took River on a tour of the disturbed graves and gave her information on the people that used to be buried there. She left the cemetery and drove back to Bobby’s. He was exactly where she left him, sitting in his wheelchair watching his wife bustle around the kitchen. They talked and bantered as if she’d been gone to her mothers for a long weekend and not dead for thirty something years. 

“Bobby, where’s your satellite phone?” River asked. 

Bobby spun his chair around, his eyes narrowed in distrust, “Why?”

“Cell towers out. We need back up. The Wonder boys gotta shag ass home.” She replied. Bobby rolled out of the kitchen, ushering them towards the sitting room.

“What the hell you need back up for? Aint nothin’ goin’ on that you need to get those boys involved with.” Bobby said crossing his arms over his chest.

River let out a short laugh. “Bullshit, Papa Bear. Thirty-seven graves have been disturbed.” River pulled out a crumpled list of names from her jacket pocket. “I lived through shit like this. Remember? Zombies are like potato chips; you never have just one. Now, where’s your god damn satellite phone?” Bobby reached into the side of his wheelchair and procured the requested phone. “Thank you,” she said extending her open hand for it. Instead of handing her the phone he dropped it to the ground in front of his wheelchair then rolled over it. Crunching and grinding the phone until it was completely destroyed. River stared down at the now useless chunks of plastic. “Yeah, ok Bobby,” she said quietly. 

River limped out of the house and stood in the fresh air weighing her options. Her ankle itched, her arms were tired from drugging through the muddy graveyard and the sick feeling of dread and premonition rolled through her stomach. “Fuck this,” River muttered. She limped down the wheelchair ramp and into Bobby’s dank tool shed. After fumbling in the musty darkness she found the single bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling and illuminated Bobby’s collection of rusty tools. “Gabriel, if you can fucking hear me. Please don’t let me cut my foot off,” she prayed to her dead friend. 

River sat outside Curt Winslow’s home for several hours watching as the dead man played with his children, said grace before dinner and watched TV with his wife on the couch. Time ticked by slowly as the man went about his mundane life. She drove away before dusk and headed to check another name on the list: Mrs. Lana Smith, dead six years. Her husband still lived in the same home he had shared with her for the nearly fifty years of their marriage. River pulled up to the home and noticed its decrepit state; lawn overgrown, several rusted skeletons of cars sagging into the earth, front porch cluttered with boxes of junk. She raised her hand to knock on the front door before her eyes settled on the smears of blood around the doorknob. “Shit,” she muttered. She turned the knob and was less than surprised to find it unlocked. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Smith, Sheriffs department. Just doing a routine wellness check-“ she called stepping into the home. She instantly felt bad for all the times she had called Bobby a hoarder. Bobby was a collector, albeit a disorganized collector. The Smiths were hoarders. Half rotten cardboard boxes lines the walls, mountains of newspapers, empty soda bottles and used adult diapers littered the ground. The air was suffocating with the sickening tang of trash, stale urine, human misery and underneath it all the sweet, metallic scent of blood. A wet cough echoed from behind a mountain of plastic trash bags. She pulled her pistol out of her belt loop and stepped towards the wet sputtering sounds. A frail, skeletal woman lay on a mound of dirty clothes. Her features sunken, eyes cloudy and blind, face marred with large rotting pustules. 

“Mrs. Smith?” River asked, her voice unsteady. The woman beckoned River closer with one rigored, claw like hand. “No, nope. I’m just gonna stay here if you got something to say-ah shit! Bugs!,” River jumped away from the pile of trash as a hissing cockroach the size of her fist landed on her shoulder. She furiously swatted at the bug taking her eyes off the supposed-to-be dead woman. Mrs. Smith emitted a wet, animalistic snarl and jumped towards River with a speed and strength belying her age and infirmity. She slammed into River and they both tumbled into the mountain of trash bags. The old woman’s jaws snapped centimeters from River’s nose, thick purulent sludge oozed from the dead woman’s open mouth and dropped onto River’s cheek. River gagged and used all her strength to keep the woman from sinking her teeth in to her throat. Her gun was gone, knocked out of her hand and buried beneath a pile of rotten food scraps. This dead bitch was stronger than any zombie River had tackled before. She kicked the woman off her with a grunt and scrambled to her feet, slipped on a puddle of blood and landed on the half eaten corpse of Mr.Smith. The dead woman fought her way from under the pile of trash and crawled towards River. The hunter quickly scanned the piles of debris for a suitable weapon. Her eyes settled on a half buried brass candlestick. River yanked it free and spun towards the dead woman. With a grunt she swung the candlestick at Mrs. Smith, connecting with the side of her head with a hollow thud. The thuds that followed weren’t hollow but squelching wet as she caved the old woman’s head in. “God damn, fucking zombies,” she yelled disgustedly as the dead woman finally stopped moving.

River ran back to her truck and raced to Curt Winslow’s home. Her heart thundering in her chest, he had kids and she left them because she got bored watching their white-bread life. The lights were off and the house quiet as the family inside slept. She grabbed her shotgun and her lock pick kit off the seat next to her. Her ankle twinged angrily inside her boot and she limped slightly as she headed towards the home.

After quickly picking the lock on the backdoor River snuck into the house. She found Curt’s kids and wife asleep in their respective rooms. Apparently the dead don’t need to sleep because Curt Winslow was standing in his kitchen staring blankly at the wall next to the refrigerator. A floorboard under her boot squeaked and Curt roused out of his stupor. “Who the hell are you?” he asked quietly, afraid to wake his family. 

River raised her shotgun and flicked open her fake FBI agent badge, “FBI. You’re under arrest for the murder of Roger Smith.”

Curt sighed, “Well that son of a bitch had it coming!”

“How so?” she asked tucking the FBI badge back into her jacket but keeping the shotgun trained on the dead man. She took a tentative step towards the man. He hadn’t gone full zurg and River wasn’t about to shoot the man in front of his family if she could avoid it.

“He killed me first! Shot me in the back while we were out hunting deer!” the man yelled angrily. River retreated a step, warily watching the man for any signs he might attack.

“Curt…” a woman’s tentative voice sounded behind them. River looked over her shoulder at Curt’s wife, her soft blonde hair still tousled from sleep. “I-I called the police.”

“Fuck,” River muttered and lowered the shotgun as Curt walked towards his wife.

“It’s ok, she’s FBI. She’s here about Roger. It’ll be ok,” he kissed his wife on the cheek and turned back towards River. “It’s alright. I’m ready to go. I don’t want my kids to see me in handcuffs.”

“Uhhh….yeah ok,” River pointed towards the front door. “You first.” Curt led her out of the house and they walked down the driveway towards the red truck parked across the street. Two police cruisers screeched to a halt at the foot of the driveway; Sheriff Mills and a second officer jumped out with pistols raised.

“Drop the weapon!” Sheriff Mills ordered. River complied and gently set the gun down at her feet.

“Look this is all just a misunderstanding. I’m FBI and he’s a zombie,” River said as she slowly raised her arms over her head.

“I’m not a zombie! I’m a tax payer!” Curt said indignantly. 

River looked at the dead man and shrugged her shoulders, “Hey, nothing personal man. But it’s only a matter of time before you start eating peoples faces off. I’m just here to just make sure it’s not gonna be those kids in there.”

“Wait a minute…I recognize you. You’re staying with Bobby Singer. I saw you two at Linh’s last week,” Sheriff Mills said tucking her gun back into her holster. “I should’a known. Is this one of Bobby’s schemes? Huh? What were you going to do with Curt? Shoot him here in the driveway?”

River shook her head, “Bobby hasn’t got anything to do with this and no I wasn’t going to shoot him in the driveway. Give me a little credit. There’d be too many witnesses.” Sheriff Mills nodded at her deputy and the man strode towards her. Very quickly River found herself in handcuffs and in the back of Sheriff Mills squad car. “You’re making a big mistake here Sheriff. I have got a really bad feeling about this and I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.” Sheriff Jody Mills remained silent as she drove them away from the Winslow’s home. 

Jody’s cellphone rang a few minutes later. She glanced over her shoulder at River who sat with her head resting on the window watching as the landscape grew familiar. “Hi, sweetie it’s going to be a while until I get home. How’s Owen,” she asked the voice on the other line. Jody’s eyes narrowed and she chewed her bottom lip instantly transforming from Sheriff to worried mom. River watched her reflection in the rearview mirror. “Well, if the fever’s not better when I get home then we’ll call Dr. Jones….is he hungry? Ok, well thats a good sign. I’ll be home as soon as I can.” 

“Sounds like you got a sick kid at home, Sheriff.” River commented after she ended the call. The folded lists of empty graves was still in her jacket pocket. ‘Owen Mills’ was the third name on the list. 

Jody shot her a quick look in the rearview mirror, “You got kids?” River shook her head. “Maybe one day you will and then you’ll know there is nothing in the world you can ever love more than your child. And you will cherish every moment with them.” 

River sat back against the vinyl seat, “I was going to be a mom…My sons were-“ She paused and swallowed. “They died. I loved them…I loved them more than anything and I wanted them back. I want them back but they are gone and they aren’t coming back. And that’s something I’ve got to live with.”

The patrol car rolled into the Singer Salvage yard just as the sun was rising. Jody got out and walked to Bobby’s front door. River leaned as far forward as she could with her hands still cuffed behind her back and watched as Bobby answered the door and had a quiet conversation with the Sheriff. She saw Bobby nod and Jody walk back towards the patrol car. “Get out,” she said opening the door. River shuffled out and waited as Jody unlocked the handcuffs. “I don’t want to see you in town bothering any and I mean any of my residents. Do you understand?”

River nodded and rubbed her wrists, “Yes ma’am. I get it- Stay outta Sioux Falls, Lebowski.” 

Jody smiled, “As long as the Dude abides we won’t have any more problems.” River walked up the stairs towards Bobby and they watched as the Sheriff drove away. 

“I can explain,” she said turning towards the man in the wheelchair. 

Bobby grunted, “I’m all ears.”

“I went and checked on Lana Smith and she ate her fucking husband! And it’s only a matter of time before the rest of them go feral-“

“Enough. I god damn warned you. There aint no case here. These people are good people and you were going to shoot one of them in front of his kids!” Bobby yelled.

River laughed, “Are you kidding me? Two people are already dead…. Why are you not getting this? The dead rising- this is not in any way a good thing.”

“Why not? The Bible is full of scripture on the dead being risen. Why can’t this be a good sign?” Bobby retorted.

River stomped her foot in annoyance, “Because when the fuck does anything good happen to any of us? This is going to go sour, Bobby. I know it! You don’t understand-“

“I don’t understand?” Bobby yelled, rolling his wheelchair closer. “I was killing monsters way before John Winchester dumped your ass at the Ranger station, girl. And I am warning you to stand down.” 

River shook her head, “I won’t.”

“Then git the hell out,” he said lowly. 

“What?”

“Get out. I’m not gonna have you in my house, around my wife, talkin’ like that,” he said.

River huffed in disbelief, “Your wife? Your wife is dead-“ Bobby pulled a revolver from the side of his chair and cocked it. River stared at the gun blinking in shock. “Papa Bear?”

He waved the gun at her, “Go.” 

Atlantic city was not as entertaining as the brothers hoped. Sam got his wallet stolen by a couple of kids peddling bottled water. Dean lost way too much money at Blackjack then got food poisoning at the all-night buffet. “I can’t get through to Bobby or River,” Dean yelled to his brother through the bathroom door. 

“Me either,” Sam yelled back. The toilet flushed and Dean staggered out, one hand rubbing his gurgling stomach. “I’m not even getting a dial tone. It just beeps and then disconnects….” Sam muttered typing furiously into his laptop. “So get this-“ he started. 

Dean burped loudly and flopped back on his bed, “What?”

“There was a 6.3 earthquake centered about 10 miles outside of Sioux Falls two nights ago,” Sam sighed closing his laptop and stuffing it back in duffle bag. 

Dean shot up from the bed, “Shit.”

“You want me to drive?” Sam asked as they walked down the rickety stairwell towards the Impala. 

“Do I ever want you to drive?” Dean replied as they climbed into their car. The twenty hour drive took Dean a little over twelve. Sioux Falls appeared before them just as the sun crested the horizon. Dean barreled through town, taking the main street until it ended in the dirt road that led to Bobby’s. 

Bobby’s wheelchair accessible van was parked in front of his house, the panel doors hanging open. The hard dirt ground around the van was splattered in rust color splotches. The van itself was covered in bloody hand prints. The brothers wordlessly pulled their guns out and headed towards Bobby’s house. The front door hung on broken hinges, half the windows on the ground floor were broken inwards, pools of sticky reddish-black blood were soaking into the hardwood floors. “RIVER!” Dean yelled rushing further into the house. “RIVER! BOBBY!” The brothers took opposite ends of the house, Dean checking all the rooms on the ground floor and the panic room with Sam running upstairs. The reconvened in the sitting room finding no trace of Bobby or River. “Where are they? What the fuck happened?” Dean yelled. Sam shook his head, staring at the mess as if some clue would jump out at him. 

“Dean, there!” Sam shouted, pointing behind his brother to the large window in the kitchen. A plume of black smoke had risen above one of the towers of junked cars. The brothers ran out of the house, through the winding paths of the junkyard towards the smoke. They found Bobby and River silently holding hands in front of a bonfire as flames engulfed a white sheet wrapped body.

“River! Baby what the- what the hell happened?” Dean yelled. 

River jumped and spun around, her pale blood streaked face lighting up with relief, “Dean! Sam!” She ran the last few paces towards them and took turns giving them tight hugs. “I missed the fuck out of you two….Sorry, I’m covered in blood and zombie guts.” She said wiping at the smears she left on their shirts. “It’s been a hell of a couple of days.”

“Zombies? What the hell happened?” Dean repeated. “Who is that?” He asked pointing to the body on the pyre.

River turned back towards the bonfire and Bobby’s still form. “That’s umm…that’s-“ She stammered and squeezed her eyes shut against the burning tears threatening to spill over.

“That’s my wife,” Bobby said quietly over the crackling flames. Sam and Dean looked down at River who nodded silently, tears smearing the streaks of grime and blood on her face. “You know why she’s on that pyre and not in the urn I buried her in?” The older hunter asked turning his wheelchair around to face them. “Because Death decided to take a stroll through my backwater, hick South Dakota town.”

“Death? The Horseman was here. Why?” Sam asked him. 

“Because of you!” Bobby yelled. “Because of me helping you! I’m trying to keep you two sons of bitches from saying yes and finishing the Apocalypse. This was a message. A warning to me for what’s coming.”

“Bobby-“ Sam started. 

Bobby held up a hand to silence him, “I just need a few more minutes with my wife if ya’ll don’t mind.” The three younger hunters nodded and left Bobby to grieve in peace.

“What the hell happened to your cast?” Dean asked.

She laughed, “I cut it off with a buzzsaw. It’s only two weeks early. I feel fine.” River led the brothers back to Bobby’s house filling them in on the last three days events. “They weren’t like regular zombies, if there’s such a thing,” River told them. “They talked, they had memories and then they went crazy and tried to eat everyone.” She sighed loudly when they reentered Bobby’s house, the horror scene in front of them that needed to be cleaned was another twenty pounds of exhausting weight on her shoulders. “Fuck. I still gotta go check on Jody,” she murmured twisting her hair into a tight bun on the top of her head.

“Who’s Jody?” Dean asked as he and Sam righted Bobby’s overturned desk.

“Sheriff Jody…her boy Owen was one of the one’s that came back,” she paused again. “He…I was too late, he attacked her husband. I need to make sure she’s ok. She helped me save everyone and put down the dead.”

“No, you need to take a shower and eat something. I’ll clean up down here. Sam will check on the Sheriff,” Dean told her. 

Sam nodded , “I’ll go. Riv, you’ve done enough. Get some rest.” River nodded gratefully and gave him the Sheriffs address. She started a pot of coffee and stood staring out the kitchen window watching the smoke from Karen’s funeral pyre.

“You all right sweetheart?” Dean asked wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her towards him. River chewed her bottom lip nervously and turned around to face him. She ran her hands through his hair and stood on her toes to kiss him. “I had a dream a couple nights ago,” she told him quietly. “Care of Zachariah…” she let the Angels name hang in the air for a moment. 

Dean sighed and closed his eyes, “What did he show you?”

“Detroit. Couple of months from now,” she answered. “The big Archangel showdown. Michael versus Lucifer. You said no and Lucifer won… because Sam said yes.” 

Dean ran his hands down the sides of his face, “I know. Son of a bitch showed me the same thing. ‘bout five years from now the whole planets screwed, overrun with ‘Croats.”

“With what?” she asked. 

“Croatoan virus. Demon-zombie virus thats gonna get let loose if we don’t fucking stop Pestilence.” Dean answered. The coffee pot beeped and at the same time Bobby trundled up the ramp and continued to his room without saying a word to either one of them.

“All this shit…it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you and Sam don’t say yes. No matter what,” River told him.

Dean sighed, “It’s not on my agenda, Princess.”

She looked at him for several long seconds then smiled, “How about having sex with me in the shower? Is that on the agenda?”

He furrowed his eyebrows as if searching his memory for an important meeting he might be missing, “You know I think I can squeeze you in right between de-zombiefing Bobby’s house and getting the hell out of South Dakota.”


	53. Chapter 53

Ch 53

Dean and River materialized from the foggy bathroom sometime later. Sam was back from Jody Mills’ and relayed the Sheriff as well as could be expected with the death of her husband and the re-death of her son. The rest of the town seemed to be coping with the return and then loss of their dead loved ones in much the same way. A few people had tried to contact the media but the story was so far fetched no one was biting. Bobby sat in his wheelchair in the kitchen a mug of cold coffee in front of him. “I’ll make dinner,” Dean announced. Bobby grunted an affirmative and looked at River who gave him a nervous half smile. 

“I want to talk to you,” he said pulling a chair next to him and patting the seat. River sat down in the offered chair and watched as Dean searched the fridge and cabinets for something to throw together for dinner. Sam leaned against the kitchen island with his laptop open eyes scanning news stories. “I need to apologize to you-“ Bobby started. The brothers tried to appear like they were still engrossed in their tasks but Dean had stopped slamming cabinets shut and Sam’s fingers hung motionless above his keyboard.

“No you don’t, Bobby,” River said tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. 

“I was way outta line. And I’m sorry for the way I treated you,” he continued. “You did good, girl. You did real good by me and this town.” River dipped her head, the tips of her ears red and hot with his words of praise. He reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

“How come you’ve never said something like that to us?” Sam demanded. 

“Yeah, she ganks a couple dozen zombies and get the ‘Bobby Singer Lifetime Achievement Award.” Dean grumbled.

Bobby laughed, “ ‘cause I like her better than I like the two of you idjits. Where’s my damn dinner?”

The trio of hunters left Bobby’s the next day after cleaning the blood, gore and broken glass from his home. They had no ideas or plans so Dean chose a direction while the three of them discussed all the things they did and did not know about the coming Apocalypse.

“Things we know for sure:” River started reading the list she had written, “1. Michael and Lucifer are Archangels. 2. You lucky bastards are their vessels. 3. Angels need consent from their vessels before entering. As long as you two don’t give them the go ahead they can’t ride you like a couple of Flannel clad Vespas. 4. Angels, as a general rule, are feathered dickbags- do we need to include that on the list. I mean doesn’t that go with out saying?” River asked looking at Dean’s green eyes reflected at her in the rearview mirror.

He glanced down at his phone then back to her, “You wanted a list. It goes on the list.”

River smirked, “5. The Horseman’s rings make some sort of magic lock that goes to Lucifers cage which apparently is still intact in Hell somewhere. 6. Pestilence has a virus ready to go global that turns people into ’28 Days Later’ rage zombies. That about it for now?” Sam nodded. “Ok on to things we don’t know: 1. How the fuck do the rings work? 2. How the fuck do we send Lucifer back to his room? 3. Where is God? Is He alive? Because God has to be a man. A woman wouldn’t let their children run a-fucking-mok for millennia…4.How do we find the last two Horseman? 5. I’m hungry. When are we stoping?”

Dean checked his phone and said, “We’re almost there.” He pulled the Impala off the highway at the next exit.

“There? Where the hell are we?” River asked as Dean continued to drive for several more minutes. They finally arrived at their apparent destination, “The Tipsy Cow” and parked the car. 

“You guys ready?” he asked looking over his shoulder at River then back to his brother. She and Sam wore similar looks of bewilderment. Dean pointed to the marque above the bar; “My Name is Sue- Johnny Cash tribute band Live Tonight!”

River broke into a brilliant smile, “Oh this is so happening.” 

“Congrats Sammy, you get to drive tonight.” Dean dropped the keys into his brothers lap before he could protest and climbed out of the car after River. He slung one arm across her shoulders and kissed the side of her forehead as they walked into the bar. The cover band was half way through “Daddy Sang Bass” as River pulled Dean through the crowd towards an empty table near the stage. Sam stopped at the bar to order the first round of drinks before joining them. “How’d you find this place?” she asked after the song ended and they could hear each other talk. 

Dean shrugged taking a sip from his beer, “Saw it online. Thought you might like it.” Sam smiled at his brother, Dean was trying to act cool but he was nervous. 

“Why? What’s the special occasion? Am I dying? I would know if I was dying, right?” River asked looking between the brothers. 

Sam raised his eyebrows, “I don’t know anything about this.”

Dean knocked his first shot of whiskey back and rolled the empty shot glass between his hands. “It’s…it’s the anniversary of the night we met,” He answered. 

River gave a surprised laugh, “What? Anniversary? You’re joking.” Her eyebrows narrowed in suspicion. 

“Cut me some slack. Things have been exceedingly shitty lately and I just thought it’d be nice…”

“It’d be nice to celebrate the night I almost shot your brother and got roofied by a group of serial rapists?” Dean nodded. “End of the world’s making you sentimental, Winchester.” River said quietly before leaning across the table to kiss him. They stayed and enjoyed the rest of the band’s set, River even pulling Dean drunkly to the floor to dance for a few songs. Sam finally corralled them back to the car at closing time. “Sam, Sammy we should get some more drinks. Find a liquor store,” River commanded from the backseat. 

Dean nodded, “Yeah that’s a great idea. Sammy to the liquor store!”

“You two are a couple of drunk assholes you know that?” Sam muttered trying to find both an open liquor store and a motel within their price range. He found the liquor store, grabbing a couple six packs and a bottle of whiskey and returned to the car less than ten minutes later to find Dean and River necking in the backseat like horny teenagers. Sam banged on the window several times before he got their attention.

“Fuck off Sammy!” Dean yelled. 

“You wanted booze, I got booze!” Sam hollered back annoyed. The two separated, Dean’s hair a tousled mess, River’s lips swollen and pink. “There’s like no middle ground with you two is there? You’re either fucking or arguing…” he mumbled scanning the list of motels he had up on his cellphone. 

“We do other stuff. Sometimes…we could go bowling. Find a bowling alley Sammy.” River said resting her head on Dean’s shoulder. 

Sam shook his head and muttered, “Assholes” under his breath again. The motel he settled on had only one open room with two queen beds. “No drunk sex with me in the room! Are we clear?” Sam asked as he unlocked their shared room. Dean and River nodded. 

“You sound like you need a couple drinks,” River said patting his chest and slipping past him into the room. They all had more than a couple of drinks and passed out before dawn. Sam flopped onto his bed, his ridiculous gazelle legs hanging over the edge. River cocooned by Dean, his arms and legs somehow completely wrapped around her, his face buried in her hair, his warm breath on her neck. Early morning sunlight drifted through the crack in the olive green curtains landing directly on River’s closed eyelids. Someone blared a car horn on the street outside, deep voices drifted through the thin walls and River groaned in annoyance. Her still tired eyes cracked open, focusing slowly on the back of Sam’s shaggy auburn hair and rumpled plaid shirt. Dean mumbled something in his sleep his arm pulling her tighter towards him. After much maneuvering and gentle nudging she was able to convince Dean to let her go and turn on his stomach burying his face in the pillow instead of her neck.

River stood up and stretched. She still wore her stale clothes from the previous day and grimaced at the smell of sour beer and bar food wafting off her with the shifting fabric. Both brothers snored peacefully behind her and she decided to use the opportunity to get a hot shower. The sound of her shower helped mute the tentative sounds of someone jimmying the lock on the motel door. Two masked figures silently entered the room and closed the door behind them. One of the intruders removed Sams pistol from the top of the nightstand while the other carefully grabbed the pistol that was poking out from beneath Dean’s pillow. Sam stirred, sitting up quickly. The masked figure standing at the foot of the bed held one gloved finger up to his mouth indicating “silence” and pointed at the closed bathroom door where the sounds of the shower still echoed. 

Some instinctive part of Dean’s brain woke him a few seconds later. He kept his eyes closed and tried to ascertain exactly what he was facing. He heard shifting footsteps, ragged breaths, and the faint echo of River singing in the shower. His hand went for the gun under his pillows but came away empty. “Shit,” he thought. 

“Lookin’ for this?” A hollow ‘thump’ sounded from the foot of his bed as someone ejected the clip from his pistol onto the carpeted floor. 

Dean turned slowly to his side, hands held in front of him then swung his legs to the end of the bed so he was sitting up. “Morning.” He said said trying to sound nonchalant. The masked man in front of his bed had a gun in each hand pointed at him and his younger brother. The second man shouldered his way into the bathroom and ripped the cheap plastic shower curtain from the rod. “Motherfuck!” River yelled in surprise. The man snatched a handful of River’s long wet hair and dragged her out of the shower. She screamed, then there were the sounds of a struggle. The man grunted as River got a least one good hit in before the sound of a gloved fist struck soft flesh. “Ow!” River yelped.

Dean tensed and the man holding the gun on him and his brother shook his head and said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Dean.” 

“Get me a fucking towel, mouth breather!” She yelled as the stranger pressed a shotgun between her shoulder blades. The masked man ignored her request and shoved her out of the bathroom. Sam’s hazel eyes stared fixedly at the gun pointed at his chest. Dean’s face was a mask of smoldering anger as the stranger marched River out of the bathroom, naked and wet, to the space in front of the two beds. Her cheeks and chest burned hot red with anger and embarrassment. She had one arm was covering her chest the other hanging down trying to cover her front. ”You’re not supposed to see me naked ‘till our wedding night, Sammy,” she mumbled. Her jaw and lip were swelling and purple from where the man had punched her. 

“Hands behind your head and get on your knees, sweet pea.” The man barked.

“Enjoy the view, Chucklefuck.” River told him lowering herself to the floor and lacing her fingers behind her head. She looked at Dean’s stony features and the way his hands rested tensely on his knees. She didn’t dare turn her head to look directly at Sam but saw his similar stiff posture from her peripheral vision.

“Is it just me or do you guys seem mighty upset about something?” Dean asked.

“There’s been a lotta rumors flying around about you two,” the one still aiming the shotgun between Rivers shoulder blades said. “Sam, you think you can flip the switch on the apocalypse and walk away?”

“Who told you that?” Sam asked quietly. The masked men shifted nervously on their feet.

“News travels Winchester,” one of them answered. 

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait...Roy is that you?” He asked the man standing in front of him. “It is isn’t? Which makes the other chucklefuck Walt. Walt, you hit my girl.” Dean said turning his eyes to the man standing behind River. River couldn’t help the smirk pulling at her swollen lip. The men cursed and pulled their ski masks off. 

“You dicks think you can kick off the apocalypse and there ain’t gonna be repercussions?” Roy asked waiving his guns angrily at the brothers.

River shook her head, “You gutless fucking wonders haven’t got a god damn clue...”

Walt shoved the cold shotgun barrel harder into her back, “Oh no? We know you’re the little bitch that killed Mike and Joey Rogers. They were good friends of ours.” 

River thought back to the hunters she had run into a few months prior. She had saved their necks from a werewolf. Then Mike had innocently enough invited her to a few beers as thanks. His brother, Joey, had been the one to figure out who she really was as she stood next to the burning werewolf corpse trying to stay warm, “You’re Dean Winchester’s bitch. There’s some pretty rotten rumors floating around about them two.” The brothers concocted a half baked plan to kidnap her and lure the Winchesters into a trap. Joey’s lumbering form hid a well trained hunter, he tackled her to the ground while his brother hastily wrapped her wrists and ankles in duct tape and then they shoved her kicking and screaming into their trunk. They’d been dumb enough to leave a tire iron in the trunk and tape her hands in front of her. When they finally stopped driving and popped the trunk open she was waiting for them. She cracked Joey's head open like a soft melon when he reached in to pull her out and during the ensuing struggle she wrangled Mike’s gun away from him. She left the brothers in a puddle of their own blood, stole their car and ran before the rest of their friends caught up with them.

“Wait, you don’t have to do this,” Sam told him. “I can explain. Just hear us out.”

“We ain’t the only hunters after you.” Roy told them as if that explained what they were about to do. “There’s repercussions.”

River gave Dean a small, hopeless smile, “I lov-“. The shotgun went off. A ragged blossom exploded out from her chest and she fell face first into the shag carpet. Dean blinked several times, trying to get her blood out of his eyes. His hands still frozen in place on his knees. Roy pumped the used shells out of his shotgun and turned it on Sam. 

“You don’t get to end the world and walk away,” Walt repeated.

The shotgun went off again with a deafening blast. The wall behind Sam was splattered with chunks of his lungs and thick globs of blood before he fell lifeless to the bed. Roy’s hands shook when Dean finally moved, barely turning his head to look down at River’s body, her blood soaking into the avocado green carpet. His rage filled eyes moved slowly to his brothers slumped, unmoving form. “Killin’ them two was right. Dean….Dean wasn’t the one we were here for,” Roy said quietly.

Walt laughed, “We just murdered his brother and his girlfriend. You want to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder making sure this asshole ain’t there? Kill him and lets get the fuck out of here.” Roy continued to hesitate, his guns heavy and slipping in his sweaty hands.

“Yeah, Roy. Do it. I ain’t got all day.” Dean smiled at him, “But I’m warnin’ you, when I come back I’m gonna be pissed.” 

“Fuck this,” Walt muttered stepping in front of Roy. Dean heard the third deafening blast from the shotgun but felt nothing. One moment he was in the motel room staring down his imminent death, again, the next he was sleeping in the front seat of Baby.

“How the hell?” Dean muttered when he woke up. Bob Dylan played softly on the radio. The car was pulled over on a dark empty road. He got out of the car to check his surroundings. The trunk slammed shut behind him and Dean spun on his heels. Sam stood smiling behind him, 11-year old Sam to be exact, holding a box full of enough firecrackers and bottle rockets to set half of Delaware on fire. “Sammy?”

Sammy adjusted his grip on the box, “Dean this is gonna be awesome! Come on!”

Dean smiled, “Weird dream.” He followed his younger and still shorter-than-him brother away from the road and into an empty field. 

Sammy set the box of fire works down and turned towards him, “Do you have your lighter?” He looked up expectantly at his ever prepared, way cool older brother. 

Dean patted his leather jacket and found his old lucky lighter in the inside pocket, “No way. I haven’t seen this thing in years." He thumbed the wheel and the blue flame sprang to life. 

Sam held up a sparkler to the flame and smiled as it caught, “This is awesome, Dean. Thanks. Dad would never let us do something like this.” Sammy gave Dean a quick hug then used the sparkler to light his row of illegal fireworks. The fireworks went off and the Winchester’s had their own private show.

Dean smiled, “Man, I remember this! This is the year we burnt that field down on Fourth of July...Dad kicked the crap out of me the next day.” Sammy didn’t hear him over the crackling and exploding fireworks. The dark sky above them lit in brilliant blues and oranges. His younger brother was smiling ear to ear, genuinely happy, an emotion he hadn’t seen on Sam in a long time. A particularly loud ‘Crashmaster XXL’ exploded in the sky above them and Dean remembered the ear splitting sounds of shotgun blasts. Sudden silence pressed in around him. The fireworks were gone, Sammy was gone. All that remained was the cold, dark field in front of him and the sound of static echoing from Baby a few hundred yards away. Dean trudged back through the darkness towards his car, the static almost seemed to be taking on a familiar sound. Once or twice he even thought he heard his name.

“De-Dean, can you…can you hear me, Dean!” Castiel’s gravelly voice finally broke through the static just as Dean sat back behind the wheel of the car.

Dean’s eyebrows shout up in surprise, “Cas?”

“Yes, Dean it’s me.”

The hunter let out a short whistle, “Dude, you gotta stop poking around in my dreams.”

“Dean listen to my very carefully. This isn’t a dream.” Even through the undercurrent of static Dean could hear the harried tone in the Angel’s voice. “You know what happened.”

Dean sat back heavily against the seat, “I’m dead.”

“Yes.” The static blared and Castiel’s voice disappeared for a few seconds. 

Dean was afraid to touch the knobs on the radio and lose Cas permanently. “Cas, are you there man? Where the hell am I?”

“Heaven. Dean you are in heaven. What do you see? Some people see a tunnel or a river-“

“River! Sam! Cas, where are they? Those sons of bitches that shot me got them first.” Dean yelled.

“Sam is there somewhere. Dean, I don’t know if you’ll be able to find River-“

“Sam’s in heaven? How do I find them?” Dean asked. The static blared again. 

“Dean what do you see?” Cas repeated.

Dean let out a frustrated breath, “Nothin, man. My dash. I’m in my car. There’s a road.”

“Ok, for you it’s a road…this spell is very difficult to maintain…I’ll try to keep in contact. You must follow the road and find Sam-“ Castiel’s voice was finally drowned out by static.

Dean yelled at the radio, “Cas! Cas! What about River!” Castiel didn’t answer. He wildly spun the dials searching for Castiel. The Angel didn’t answer but on every station his favorite songs played. “Shit,” he muttered as he started the Impala. “Follow the road...” he said to himself pulling back onto the deserted asphalt. There were no turns, no forks, just endless flat road as far as he could see. The darkness around the car was oppressive he couldn’t even see the outlines of buildings or trees. 

The road suddenly dumped him in the front yard of a middle class home befitting no-name suburbia and not whatever dark corner of heaven he found himself in. He slammed on the brakes inches before plowing over a mailbox shaped like a miniature version of the house behind it. “That’s a little redundant,” Dean muttered at the stupid mailbox.

Soft light was spilling out from the large picture window in the front of the house. Dean cautiously got out of his car and looked inside the home. Sitting at the large dinner table, surrounded by a family straight out of a Thursday night prime time show, was Sam. By the looks of the fixings on the table Sam was enjoying Thanksgiving dinner. Judging by the nervous glances from the giddy tween girl to Sam’s left she was planning on having him for desert and not the pumpkin pie. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” Dean muttered watching his brother make awkward small talk. He found the front door and let himself in. 

“Thanks again for inviting me to dinner Mr. and Mrs. Scott. This is great,” San told the man and woman at the head of the table. Brace-face gave his knee a flirty squeeze and Sam almost jumped out of his seat. Dean couldn’t help but laugh. 

Sam spun around in his chair, “Dean! What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with dad- I mean….Get the hell out of my dream, dude!” He turned back to the table to give the Scotts some excuse as to why his older brother decided to crash Thanksgiving but the family was continuing their conversation as if nothing happened.

“Dream? Try again Sammy. We’re in heaven.“ Dean asked. “And apparently your Heaven is diner with Jailbait.”

Sam stood up, “Heaven...wait. The motel, those guys. We’re dead?” Dean nodded.   
“How the hell did we get into Heaven? I mean you I get. But me? Come on, unless you’ve forgotten I’ve done…things.” 

Dean sighed, “Yeah well you did ‘em with good intentions, right?”

Sam smiled, “Last I remember, Heaven’s not the road paved with good intentions.”

“We got find a way outta here. This place sucks…If I gotta spend eternity here I got needs you know? I need to find Riv…”

“Wait…they always say life flashes before your eyes when you die. Maybe that’s what this is….This is my first real Thanksgiving. That’s Alice Scott. We were in 7th grade History together. She invited me over for dinner with her family.”

Dean tucked his hands in his jacket, “Real Thanksgiving? Dad loved Thanksgiving.”

“Dad loved a bucket of extra crispy and passing out drunk before fourth down.” Sam retorted.

“Yeah well, maybe you’re on to something. When I woke up I was in a memory too. Remember that 4th of July we burnt that field down?” Dean asked.

Sam nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, I do. That was a great night until Dad kicked the crap out of you when we finally got back to the motel.” Dean opened his mouth to contradict Sam’s memory of the night but before he could the lights flickered than went out. The Scotts continued their discussion at the dinner table, passing dinner rolls and taking extra servings of stuffing. “I don’t remember this.” Sam said quietly to his brother. A bright white searchlight flared through the picture window, the house shook, pictures fell from the walls and the brothers looked at each other.

“I think we should…” Dean muttered. His brother nodded and they dove behind the couch, trying to hide their large frames from the searchlight. 

 

“What the hell was that?” Sam muttered when the light suddenly disappeared and the rumbling stopped.

Dean stood up and looked around the living room, his eyes settled on a stereo system in the corner, “I don’t know. But we are getting out of here…Cas, Cas buddy can you hear me. Breaker- breaker Castiel…” Dean tuned the stereo, dialing the knob back and fourth through the static filled stations. 

“Dean, are you ok man?” Sam starred worriedly down at this older brother. Afraid he was watching as the proverbial straw broke his brother.

“What…yeah. I’m fine. Cas contacted me earlier with an ET phone home spell or something…Castiel come on dude!” The TV flashed to life in the opposite corner and a flickering visage of Castiel appeared.

“Yes, Dean. I can hear you…” he voice wavered across the static.

The brothers kneeled in front of the TV. “Cas, hey I found Sam. But there’s this weird thing that just happened man. This bright light-“

“Dean, Sam do not go into the light!” Cas yelled.

Dean sat back on his heels, “Yeah ok Carol Ann. Relax-“

“No, I will not relax. That light is Zachariah. He is searching for you, scouring Heaven for you and you must not let him find you. Yet.”

“Why not Cas?” Sam asked. The TV flickered and Castiel’s voice was lost for several seconds.

“You can not say yes to Lucifer and Michael if you are dead. Zachariah needs to find you to return you to your bodies.” The Angel answered. “Heaven is closed to me but you are behind the wall. You must find someone before you are returned.”

“Who Cas?” Dean asked.

“An Angel by the name of Joshua.” Castiel answered. 

Dean shook his head, “Look no offense, Cas. But I have had my ass-fill of dickbag Angels. I want to find my girl and I want to get the fuck out of here.” 

“NO, Dean! You do not understand. It is rumored Joshua is God’s confidant . He may be the only Angel in existence that knows his location and may be able to get him to assist us. Do you think that might be helpful as the Apocalypse draws ever closer?” Castiel yelled exasperated. The harried tone had returned to his voice and if the sheen of sweat on his forehead was any indication the spell he was using to contact them was beginning to tire him.

Dean held up his hands in mock surrender, “Jeez. Alright Mr. Touchy. Find Joshua, got it. How the hell would you like us to do that?”

“Follow the Axis Mundi. Different people see it different things; to you it is two lanes of asphalt. It is the main road that runs through heaven. And at the center is the Garden. Joshua is it’s caretaker and that is where you can find him. Talk to Joshua.” The TV flickered and then Cas was gone, acrid smoke wafted out from the vents in the back of the TV as it burned out.

Dean ran his hands though his hair, “Well alright. Let’s get Baby and get back on the road.” They opened the front door and the road was gone, Baby was gone. A wall of trees too thick to walk through had sprung up a few feet from the front porch. “Shit, where the hell is the road?” he said angrily. Flashes of bright white light shone through the trees and the the brothers ducked back inside the house. 

“What do we do now?” Sam asked.

His older brother shook his head trying to come up with a plan. “I don’t know. We gotta find the yellow brick road and track down Joshua.”

“Just like that, huh? You’re really down to find God. I thought you wanted to punch in the nose.” Sam said.

“I do. Fuck the son of a bitch. But we are totally screwed without him. You know that, Cas knows that. We’re dicked on options here. So this is me and my Hail Mary because we don’t have any other plays man.” Dean said walking past his brother. He opened closets and peaked in cupboards.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked. 

Dean ran up the stairs to the second floor, “Cas said find a road. I’m looking for a road.” 

“You think the road is in a closet or the guest bedroom?” Sam yelled after him. 

“I think we are in heaven. And our memories are coming true and of all the bullshit crazy things I’ve seen, finding a road where there ain’t supposed to be a road is the most probable thing I can expect right now….Sammy check this out.” Dean poked his head out into the hallway and yelled at his brother. Sam ran down the hall and looked into the room. The bedroom was decked out in car decor, metal road signs and a giant poster of an open road with a cheesy motivational quote. They looked up at the poster and found themselves crammed into a tiny bathroom; flanked on one side by a moldy shower, a stained sink and the stupid motivational poster hanging askew on a much-patched up wall.

“Come on Winchester, are you gonna be serious about this or not. I spent the last twelve hours writing this campaign,” River’s voice drifted through the door. The brothers looked at each other and then slowly opened the bathroom door. They were in a dingy motel room. River sat crosslegged on the one bed with her back towards them. A game board was haphazardly balanced on the mattress along with stacks of papers and a piece of cardboard River had bent in to a V-shape to hide her notes from the brothers. Dean sat on the bed next to her nose deep in “What to Expect When Your Expecting” and Sam lounged on the floor a stack of his own papers in front of him.

“I’m always serious babe. You should start taking a folic acid supplement,” Dean said looking up from the book. Sam smiled at brother as he adjusted pieces on the game board.

“Alright, I’m starting....” River rolled her head and her neck and adjusted on the bed, “I am Gingerbeard Shortsack, dwarvish Trader and wayfarer I will be your guide for this campaign.” Sam threw his head back and laughed. Dean ignored them and kept reading. 

Once Sam stopped laughing he introduced his character, “Alright....I am Ian Cognito master spy and lord of illusion.” It was River’s turn to giggle at the stupid name he had come up with, Dean continued to ignore them.

“Hey, is there any chance.... like at all that when we’re you know …and remember I only got a GED…” Dean suddenly asked eyebrows raised, an embarrassed faint pink tint on his nose, “Could it hurt the baby. I mean what if I poke it in the head or something.”

“First off, You are the smartest person I have ever met Mr. I-only-have-a-GED. But, no there is absolutely no physical chance of that ever happening.“ River said then added, “We agreed not to get crazy about this until we know everything is ok. So put the damn book down and introduce your character.” She grabbed the book and tossed it over her shoulder. It landed at Deans feet and he suddenly remembered this night; he wasn’t sure yet if this was his memory or his brothers but either way it was a good one. It was after dealing with Freeman Dagett and the Ghostfacers. Daggett had tossed River across the room and less than 48 hours after they had found out she was pregnant she had begun having cramps and lite bleeding. They holed up in a shitty hotel for a few days to ride it out. Dean was nervous and antsy; River had kicked them out of the room so she could get a few hours of sleep. They had returned from town later that evening with the baby book and the old ‘Dungeons and Dragons’ game. The trio lost themselves for several hours in the game letting the rest of the worries disappear. 

“Fine... prepare yourselves dweebs! I am Dumbledork the darkest of dark mages and I control all the best superpowers I’m going to need to beat your nerdy asses.”

“You are the worst.” River said laughing.

“This was a fun night,” Dean said to his brother. River quit laughing and jumped off the bed.

“What the fuck? How are you in my dream?” she asked. Then her hand drifted to the middle of her chest where the close range shotgun blast had ended her life, “ …Shit. Those chucklefucks at the motel- they killed us didn’t they?” She said looking between the memories of the brothers next to her and the ones that had just materialized out of the bathroom. 

Sam nodded, “Yeah looks like it.” 

Dean strode across the room and swept her into a tight hug, burying his face in her neck and mumbling, “I knew I’d find you.”

“I don’t understand...where are we?” She asked.

“Heaven.” Sam answered watching as he and his brother continued playing behind them. “We get to live out our greatest hits for eternity.”

River looked over her shoulder again at the Dungeons and Dragons game. “Heaven?,” she said. “I guess if this is how I have to spend eternity it’s not so bad.This is probably one of the best memories I have…We aren’t fighting, we’re playing a freaking board game, the worlds not fucked yet and there’s greasy Chinese food…” she said pointing to the stacks of white take-out containers on the small folding table.

“What are you saying? You want to stay here?” Dean asked her. 

River cocked her to the side, “Don’t I have to? If Cas could bring us back wouldn’t he have done it already?“

“Cas wants us to find an Angel by the name of Joshua. He might have a lead on where Big Daddy is hiding.” Dean told her. The motel room started shaking before River could respond. They were plunged into darkness and then same bright white light from the Scotts reflected through the window. 

River took a step towards the thin curtains, “What the shit is that? I don’t remember a UFO…” Dean grabbed her and spun her towards the motel door as Sam dove beneath the window.

“It’s Zachariah. He’s looking for us. He needs to send us back to Earth; Michael and Lucifer can’t use us if we stay dead. They still need us to give consent to ride us into the End.” Dean murmured. The door behind them rattled on it’s hinges, the light flaring around every nook and cranny and then it went out returning the motel room to its previous state. 

Sam cautiously checked through the window before standing up, “There’s no road out there.”

“Road?” River asked.

“We gotta keep trucking on the Axis Mundi, its the Route 66 that runs through Heaven but it’s kind of a bitch to keep track of.” Dean told her. “You seen anything that looks like a road in here?” She glanced around the room, trying to remember anything useful as the brothers knocked over the cheap nightstands and checked the small closet. 

“Wait! I think…” she said running to the foot of the bed where they had thrown their duffle bags. She opened Dean’s and dug through it, “Aha! Yeah, here. You always have one of these in your bag.” She pulled out an ancient, taped and dog-eared road atlas. On the front cover was a picture of a winding road. The brothers looked over her shoulder at the atlas. It had belonged to their father, a permanent fixture in the Impalas glove box for as long as they could remember. 

“No way…” Sam muttered.

River scowled at him, “Hey, string bean I’m trying here- where are the fuck are we?” The trio were now standing in someones living room. Toys littered the floor, a crib was against the wall where a baby slept peacefully and a woman’s quiet voice drifted out of the next room. River looked up at Sam who gave her a bewildered shrug then across to Dean. He was staring dumbfounded around the room. “I wuv hugz too, Hot Stuff,” She said pointing at his shirt. 

He looked down at the pastel blue t-shrit he was wearing with a friendly Teddy bear with giant open arms beckoned for a warm hug. “No way…”Dean said. “Sammy, We’re home.” Dean took the road atlas out of River’s hand and placed it on the chipped coffee table where he remembered flipping through it as a child. 

“Dean, hunny you want some lunch?” the woman’s gentle voice called. He led them into the kitchen where a beautiful blonde woman was singing quietly along with a Beatles song playing on the radio sitting on the kitchen counter. She turned around holding a plate with a sandwich on it and smiled lovingly at Dean, “How’s Peanut Butter and Jelly sound? I cut the crusts off for you, big guy.” 

Dean walked towards the woman and sat at the table. Sam and River were completely ignored by her. “Is that….is that your mom?” River asked quietly. Sam nodded and swallowed thickly, watching as the mother he had no real memories off poured his older brother a glass of milk.

“Mom.” Sam called. “Mom?” The woman didn’t even glance at her younger son.

“Sorry, Sammy. Not your memory,” Dean told him. Sam wiped at a tear that was slowly making a trail down his cheek.

“Dean, we gotta find the road,” he said once he found his voice.

Dean nodded and continued to watch their mother, “Ok. Just…gimme a minute.” 

“Is Sammy still sleeping?” Mary asked. Dean nodded. “You are the best big brother Dean,” She said kissing his forehead. The phone rang and she stepped away to answer it. Her eyebrows creased as she heard the voice on the other end. She glanced over shoulder at Dean before answering in a low, even tone, “No, John. You have two boys at home to think about….fine. Then we have nothing to talk about.” She placed the phone back on the cradle and sniffed loudly.

“What’s that about?” River asked him.

“Mom and Dad were fighting. Dad moved out for a few days…” he answered.

Sam shook his head, “Dad always made it seem like they had the perfect marriage.”

“It was only perfect after she died,” Dean told him. He watched as his mothers shoulders shook as she tried to cry silently with her young son in the room. Dean got up from the table and went to his mother, she quickly wiped her face. “It’s ok mom. Dad still loves you,” he said hugging her. Four year old Dean would have hugged her somewhere around the level of her thighs. Thirty year old Dean was able to embrace her fully, lay his head on her shoulder and feel the soft whips of her blonde hair brush against his face. 

“You are my little angel,” Mary cooed at him.

River squeezed her eyes shut, anger suddenly flaring in her belly. “God Damn you, John Winchester,” she thought. Sam felt a similar surge of emotion towards his dead father but also a renewed sense of respect for his older brother. Dean stepped away from his mother as she asked him if he wanted pie for desert and looked to River and Sam. “What?” he asked.

Sam shook his head, “Nothing…it’s just I never realized how long you’ve been cleaning up Dad’s messes.” 

Dean was silenced for a moment, watching as their mother pulled a blueberry pie out of the fridge, cut a slice and place it on a ‘Scooby-Doo’ plate. “Yeah...well,” he cleared his throat still finding it difficult to speak ill of his father. “We need to find the road.” The hunters left the kitchen and began searching the house for any signs of the Axis Mundi. Dean and River scanned through stacks of books and magazines while Sam opened drawers in the china hutch. He found a stack of postcards and flipped through them seeing the usual variations of “Wish you were here” and wondering how many his mom had picked up in her younger years hunting with her parents. He stopped on a familiar looking postcard it read: “Route 66 The Mother Road” and had a photo of the open road and a small map. 

“Hey, I think I remember this.” He called to the other two. Dean stood up from the stack of newspapers he had been sifting through. River turned away from the crib where she had been watching baby Sam sleep. She was amazed how that tiny, innocent baby had turned into the giant demon killing hunter she had grown to know and love. They looked down at the postcard Sam held between his fingers and found themselves again somewhere new. This time a cluttered single wide trailer, the wall opposite them covered in similar postcards to the one Sam still held. “No way!” Sam said happily looking around the trailer. A dumb, friendly looking Golden retriever lounged on a sagging couch.

“Oh my god there’s a dog! Hi doggy, hi baby!” River cooed patting her thighs to entice the dog over for a belly rub. The dog completely ignored her. “Fuck you too, Fido.” She stood up feeling rejected by the stupid dog.

“His name is Bones,” Sam told her. At the sound of Sam’s voice the dog jumped off the couch, tail wagging so hard his whole back half was wiggling. “He was my dog.” Sam leaned down and scratched the dog behind the ears.

“When the hell did you guys have a dog? I can’t imagine John or Dean ever letting this giant floof ball in the car,” River said. Sam gave her a twitchy smile as he fed the dog a piece of pizza crust. Dean sighed loudly and looked around the room, hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. “You ok, Dean?” She asked. He was obviously not ok, his shoulders were tense and his jaw rigid.

“Is this Flagstaff?” He finally asked his younger brother. From Dean’s abrupt tone this was a loaded question. 

Sam was still petting Bones, “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

“This is a good memory to you?” Dean asked again, looking at the piles of empty pizza boxes and soda cans that littered the kitchen counters. River crossed her arms nervously over her chest and nibbled on one of her thumb nails. She remembered the little Dean had told her of this particular incident and Dean’s end wasn’t a happy memory. 

“I was on my own for two weeks. I lived on Funyuns and Mr. Pibb.” Sam answered. 

“You ran away on my watch! I looked everywhere for you! I thought you were dead and when Dad came home…” Dean’s eyes grew dark and haunted. There were only a handful of times when John Winchester beat his sons. When it did happen, it was mostly Dean on the receiving end who did his best to shield Sam from their fathers worst fits. The time in question John had left his sons outside of Opelika, Alabama for two weeks while he hunted a dead-end lead on Yellow Eyes. Dean left his brother studying for an AP Physics exam to hook up with a waitress he’d met the night before. When he returned to the hotel room, smelling like cheap perfume and townie pussy, Sam was gone. He drove for two days straight, following every possible bread crumb to try and find his brother before his father found out. By the dawn of the third day, Sam’s trail had gone ice cold and John was on his way to back to Alabama. John put Dean in the hospital that night with a concussion and a broken collar bone. Injuries they told the ER doctor Dean had got by falling off a dirt bike. 

“I’m sorry... I was away from Dad and all his bullshit. I got to wake up when I wanted to and-“ From the look on Sam’s face he had no idea what price Dean had had to pay.

“Forget it. Let’s just find the road, “ Dean muttered. River nodded and let Sam sit with his dog for a few more minutes. She squeezed Dean’s hand as she walked by him, her eyes set on a stack of moldy looking records. Dean angrily dug through a pile of Sam’s dirty laundry, overturned couch cushions and studied the rest of the postcards on the wall. 

“Man, my dad used to have this record. It’s Elvis’ worst album, “ River laughed. The record in question showed the King in all his 70’a leisure suit glory straddling a two lane highway. Before the brothers could respond their settings changed once again. If the single wide trailer Sam had escaped to for a few weeks was small the area they were in now was tiny. Sam had to bend over almost double to avoid hitting his head on the low ceiling. Dean adopted a lurching duck walk with his head cocked to the side. The brothers turned in tight circles trying to ascertain who’s cramped memory they found themselves in. A fold away couch bed was beside them covered in toys and coloring books, a collapsible table was along the opposite wall, a Murphy bed was stored along the opposite end and a stack of plastic milk crates crammed with vinyl records was secured to the wall with elastic bungee cords. A much loved, raggedy yellow-yarn haired doll lay on the table. River set the record down with shaking fingers and picked up the doll. Her shimmering blue space dress were worn dull around the middle where she had been held almost incessantly since she had been removed from the cardboard box she’d come in. “Rainbow Bright?” River whispered picking the doll up and tucking it securely under her right arm to protect it from thieving older brothers.

The metal clang of the RV hood being slammed shut echoed outside along with a man yelling, “Son of a shitting dick!”

River spun towards the small door tucked behind the driver and passenger seats at the front of the RV, still grasping the doll by one rainbow colored sleeve. “Who’s out there?” Dean asked her. She pushed the squeaking door open and a red-haired man was waiting at the foot of the stairs wiping his military issue black framed ‘Buddy Holly’ style glasses on a stained work shirt. He was shorter than both the Winchester’s by several inches but still had the firm muscles he’d earned in bootcamp followed by two tours in ‘Nam. His hair was a dark rusty red, skin covered in so many brown freckles from afar it gave him the appearance of a tan. 

“Did you find your doll, sweetheart?” the man asked. His thick Boston accent took both brothers back. River was silent. Hot tears sprang to her eyes. It had been twenty-three years since she’d seen her dad or heard his voice. He nodded as if she had answered, “I told you she was in there. Let’s go see if mom made lunch.” He reached for River’s hand, and turned away holding only air. He limped heavily from the injury that had earned him a Purple Heart and discharge from the Marine Corps as he led her memory away form the RV, across a browning lawn and towards a small traditional style home. A ‘For Sale’ sign was hammered into the ground in front of the house. The curb ended not in a street but once again in dense trees. After the initial shock wore off River rushed after her dad and placed her hand in his. 

“River we need to find the road,” Sam called as she walked with her dad towards their home.

Dean grabbed his brothers arm and shook his head, “Giver her a minute.”

“Platoon halt,” Her dad said suddenly holding his fist up in the air, “I gotta get all the fucks out of my system before we go in the house. How about you River-monster?” 

“Yeah, daddy,” River answered smiling, “On the count of three.”

“In Gaelic, or your dear great-grandmothers gonna roll over in her grave if one of you’s kids don’t learn the old language.” He said leaning down to the ground where River would have stood. She tilted her head down watching as he got to her 4 year old level. “A haon, a dó, a trí…Fuck!” They both yelled into the sky.

“Oooh! I’m telling mom!” A skinny blonde boy wearing similar black rimmed glasses as his father, shot up from where he’d been lounging on the porch swing and yelled. He yanked the screen door open and ran into the house yelling, “Mom!! Dad’s teaching River curse words again!” 

“Jimmy!” River yelled after him. A moment later a woman appeared in the doorway, she was a cross between Janis Joplin and Malibu Barbie if that was at all possible. Her long wavy sun-bleached blonde hair hung down to almost her hips, her skin a deep tan from a lifetime of living near the beach, wearing layers of multi-colored scarves and beaded necklaces over a peasant blouse and bright blue bellbottoms. 

River raised one shaking hand to her mouth choking back a sobbed, “Mom.”

“Tommy McGregor! That is your four year old daughter not one of your Marine grunts!” she said, fingers wrapped around her round hips in a very River-like stance. Tommy hung is head in mock shame and shot his daughter a wink.

“Well, Miss Daisy Marie you know I ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog,” he said in his best Elvis drawl. Daisy rolled her eyes, again a very River like move, and spun back into the house scarves trailing behind her and beaded jewelry clanking. “Come help me finish packing!” she yelled over her shoulder at her husband. 

Tommy looked down again to the memory of his little girl, “Alright River-monster lets go help Ma’.” He limped back into the house leaving River crying quietly and the Winchesters standing unsurely behind her. 

“Sweetheart, we gotta find the road before Zachariah catches up with us,” Dean said touching her arm gently. 

She wiped her face and nodded, “I couldn’t …I couldn’t remember their voices or what they looked like.” Music drifted out through the still open front door as River led them into the house. Four duffel bags sat by the front door. The rest of the house was bare, furniture gone, half filled boxes of junk left here and there. “Umm…looks like they already sold or pawned everything to buy the RV and gas money.” River searched her memory for anything useful. Jimmy ran by yelling at River to follow him to the Death Star. She sniffed loudly and wiped her face again, “Dad used to have car magazines. There’s gotta be some around here somewhere.” Her mom and dad were dancing in the kitchen while Elvis crooned ‘Can’t help falling in love’ from Tommy’s beat up silver and black turntable. Jimmy sat at the table, a half eaten peanut-butter banana sandwich in front of him talking animatedly to to the empty chair across from him. They each choose a cardboard box and started sifting though the contents.

“Found something,” Sam called after a few minutes. He waived a dog eared issue of ‘Car and Driver’ at them. 

“I’m sick of this shit,” River muttered as her family home disappeared and was replaced by a waiting room of some kind. “Where the fuck are we now?” she asked no one in particular as she scanned the waiting room, which was full of women in various stages of pregnancy including herself. Her hands were nervously rubbing circles on her huge stomach, feet bouncing impatiently on the tile floor. “Gotta pee-gotta pee-gotta pee,” she was humming. “Don’t laugh at me Winchester. You’re giant fucking babies are playing kickball with my bladder right now,” she elbowed the invisible space next her. “I think we should ask them about inducing me. If we get admitted to the hospital tonight I can pop these suckers out by tomorrow morning…I’m not giving up. I just want you to see them.”

“River Singer!” yelled a woman in baby pink scrubs. The hunters turned towards the voice as she greeted River and the empty space next to her. River had a death grip on the air next to her. “My, my you look like they’ve dropped a bit since your last appointment. Are you sleeping better?”

“Yeah sure,” River muttered. 

" Mmm-hmm…and this is dad. Dean, right? How ‘bout you dad, you sleeping ok? She’s gonna need a lot of help in a couple of weeks.” The nurse prattled on as she led them away from the waiting room. 

“I don’t want to go back there,” River told Sam and Dean quietly. 

Dean ran his hand over his jaw and looked out the office window, “Street ain’t out there. This place had a back exit, remember. Come on.” They walked down the long hallway towards the back of the office looking for the red ‘Exit’ sign. River took off ahead of them at a clipped pace, wanting out of the office as quickly as possible.

“When was this?” Sam asked. He hadn’t gone to very many of the doctors visits and had never been anywhere but the waiting room. The exam rooms were small and the office only allowed two people in the room at a time besides the doctor or nurse. Sam and Bobby had never intruded on River and Dean’s short times during the ultrasounds, knowing if they didn’t find a way to get Dean out of his deal this would be the only times he ever got to see his sons.

“Three days before my deal was up,” Dean answered. “Exit’s around this way.” River had continued walking down the hallway and disappeared into one of the rooms. Dean found the room she had drifted into. She stood silently in front of a TV monitor, arms wrapped tightly around her self as the sound of her sons heart beats filled the room and their black and white images appeared on the screen. Her pregnant self lay on the table answering the nurses questions. The brothers stood on either side of her watching as the boys stretched their tiny little arms and kicked their legs. 

“Wow,” Sam said after a moment. “They so look so perfect.” 

River nodded. Her memory told Dean, “Look what we made.” She glanced over her shoulder at herself, she hadn’t watched the monitor during that visit but instead had watched Dean as he stood silently memorizing the images on the screen.

Dean squeezed her hand, “We gotta go, sweetheart.” They followed Dean out of the exam room and to the exit door. “If the road could just be out here, that’d be great.” He said as pushed open the door. For once there was actually a road waiting for them. Where ever they were it was new to River and it was dark. An old shuttered house with a wildly overgrown yard was behind them hidden mostly in dark shadows. The two lanes of asphalt stretched out in either direction in front of them. Sam looked over his shoulder at his brother then down to River’s wandering face. 

She looked up at the brothers, “So which way to Emerald City?” 

“Lets-lets just keep going this way,” Sam said nervously. “Come on.” He turned to walk down the dark road. 

“Wait a minute…” Dean called. He looked back at the dark house then to his brother. “No. Not This? Is this the night you left for Stanford?” Sam nodded. “This is a good memory to you? This is your idea of heaven?”

Sam shifted uncomfortably under his older brothers angry glare, “I’m not picking these memories. But yeah, ok? This is a happy memory. I was free, Dean. Finally free of Dad.”

“Free of dad? This was one of the worst nights of my life,” Dean said quietly. “You ditched your family. You left in the middle of the night without a fucking word-“ He snapped his mouth shut and shook his head. River rubbed her arms self-consciously as the brothers argued. “Your heaven is someone else’s Thanksgiving; it’s running away from your family. What the hell, dude?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “What do you want me to say, Dean? I didn’t get the crusts cut off my PB and J. I didn’t have a mom and dad slow dancing to Elvis in the kitchen. I don’t have the same attachment to family as you guys…”

“We’re you’re family, Sam,” Dean yelled.

Sam nodded, “I know. I know you both are.” 

“It’s supposed to be us versus the world,” Dean told him. 

“It is.” Sam said. “Dean, it is.”

“Is it?” Dean asked.

River stepped between them. “I think we should probably keep walking.” She said reaching for Dean’s hand. 

He wrapped his hand around hers, “Fine. Lets find this dickbag and get the hell back to our bodies.” Zachariah’s blinding white searchlight suddenly lit up shining directly on Dean and River. “Shit! Run, run, run!” Dean yelled spinning away from the light and pulling River behind him, Sam was close on their heels as they tore through the trees, ducking under and around branches. The light continued to follow them. 

A fireball landed a few hundred feet away in a clearing of trees and Zachariah’s smug voice called out, “Are you idiots really trying to run from an Angel while in Heaven?” The trio dove down a steep embankment and crawled over a fallen log. “How ‘bout we turn the lights on?” Zachariah snapped his fingers and it was as suddenly as bright as midday. The Angel stood at the top of the embankment they had slid down. “Come on guys, enough already. Just come out so I can send you boys home and we can get the show on the road.” The Angel flapped his invisible wings and a cloud of dirt and debris blew over them. Dean silently nodded to the other two as they scrambled up and took off running again. Zachariah landed a few feet in front of them. “Well I hope you three had a pleasant stroll down memory lane. Dean, Sam it’s time to go back. River you’ve shuffled the mortal coil for the last time and I can’t say I’m surprised you died naked and face down in a puddle of your own blood.” The Angel crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a twitchy rat-like smile and River had the urge to try and claw his eyes out.

“Fuck you, Zach, “ Dean yelled.”Run!” 

They tore off into the thick trees leaving Zachariah sighing loudly. “Really? More running?”

The hunters zigged and zagged through the forest. River dodged around a particularly large tree and ran into a Luchador. “Who’s fucking head did you crawl out of?” She asked backing away from the man.

The masked man brushed his long red cape over his shoulder and asked, “Where are Dean and Sam?” Heavy foot steps and the sound of ripping foliage announced their arrival. 

“Who the hell are you?” Dean demanded. The masked wrestler held a finger to his mouth to silence them.

“Follow me. Quickly,” he beckoned them through the dense underbrush until they found a partially hidden metal door. He scribbled a sigil on the door in chalk and then wrenched it open. “Come, come.” He said over his shoulder. The bothers stepped into the dark building first with River close behind.

“Hey, who are you?” Sam asked. The masked man clapped his hands and the lights overhead turned on. He pulled the mask and cape off and dropped them to the floor while simultaneously shaking out his glorious hair.

“Buenos Dias, bitches and Señorita,” he smiled running his fingers through his blonde mullet. 

“Ash?” Dean asked. Ash had been the bar tender at Ellen Harvelles’ roadhouse before it had been burned to the ground by a group of demons with Ash and a dozen other hunters inside. 

“The one and only, muchacho. Welcome to my blue heaven,” he smiled proudly. “Y’all want a beer?”

River looked around at the pool tables, the jukebox, and the old blood stains on the wood floor. “Where the hell are we? And could someone please tell me who the hell you are?”

Dean grabbed her hand and led her towards the bar, “This is Ash. He used to work with Ellen and Jo. This was their place before Ellen got back into hunting.” River nodded and took the ice cold beer Ash had slid across the polished bar top towards her. 

“Well, nice to meet you even though it’s under these circumstance….you know being dead and all,” River smiled and drank her beer. 

Ash smiled, “Oh we’ve met before, River. Angel radio went bonkers when you flatlined. Barely had time to get you here and share a cold one before some blonde guy showed up and you bailed.” 

River shook her head and looked at Dean, “I don’t remember any of that.” 

“Yeah, well Ash you said this was your heaven? The Roadhouse?” Dean asked taking a long drink from his own beer.

Ash nodded, “Yep. My own personal. Thats how it works up here. Once your done with your greatest hits you get dropped into your favorite memory for eternity.”

“I thought heaven was a bitchin’ cocktail mixer…” River said. 

“Nope, think of Heaven like Disneyland. Over there you got Winchester land, then River land over yonder and right here we got Ash land. And at the very center is the Magic Kingdom, the garden,” Ash told them.

“So, everyone’s heaven is separate? We are all alone in here?”

Ash belched and nodded, “Yeah, to each man, woman, child and in-between their own Private Idaho.”

“But you, you were out there roaming around. You were looking for Sam and Dean. You said you found me after I died.” River said running the cold can between her fingers ruminating quietly on the new perception of heaven.

“Most people can’t get out and tiptoe through other peoples daisies.” Ash told her.

Sam smiled, “But you’re not most people?”

“Bingo. I got my own very special skill set. Valedictorian at MIT. Penchant for learning languages. Number one snake handler for my congregation. To name a few,” he smiled raising his eyebrows at River. 

Dean put his hand on hers, “We’re all going home after we get to the Garden.”

“How? Cas hasn’t got the juice to fix a broken bone. He can’t resurrect me. Zachariah sure as hell won’t. My numbers up. I’m stuck here,” she said quietly. 

Sam turned towards her, “We’ll figure something out.”

“It ain’t so bad you know. And you won’t be alone. Hell, I’ll come grab you for brewskis and pool if you want,” Ash told her unhelpfully.

“Those stupid assholes….does the jukebox work?” She asked Ash.

“Yep. Don’t even need quarters,” he replied smiling. River got up from the bar and headed for the flashing juke in the far corner of the bar.

“How do we get to the garden from here?” Sam asked. Ash cracked another beer open and waived them towards his science fair worthy lap top. Bits and pieces of various computer and video game modules had been welded together to make the machine. Hundreds of lines of white frequencies bounced around the screen. 

Ash tapped the screen, “Those are the Angels. They’re talking about you three.” River picked an album and David Bowie started singing over the bars speakers. 

“You understand Enochian?” River asked him.

“I’m fluent in it actually. How about you?”

“I know a little. It was hard to learn it. If Gabriel accidentally used his true voice he would have made my head explode.” River said listening to the tinny, musical like notes humming from the computer screen. “Their voices are muted on that; that’s amazing. You’ve cut their true voices down to a frequencies humans can hear. Only their true vessels are usually able to hear them…there that bitch just mentioned me.” She tapped a fingernail on a wavering line. 

“What the hell do you use this for?” Sam asked him.

“Sometimes to just listen to the chatter…sometimes it helps me find people I want to mingle with. I’ve visited Johnny Cash, Ghandi, the dude that wrote the Kama Sutra.” Ash answered.

Dean leaned towards the screen, “You find Jo and Ellen on this thing. I think they’d like to know you’re hanging out permanently in their bar.”

“Jo and Ellen?” Ash shook his head then ran his hands through his mullet again, “You mean…they…They went down fighting?”

Sam nodded, “Until the end. They saved our lives.”

Ash sat silent for several breaths. “Guess I gotta add them to my list.” He suddenly pushed himself away from the computer and snapped his fingers, “Damn. Almost forgot! I did, however, find someone that wanted to have a chitchat with you two the next time you dropped in.” Ash walked towards a swinging door, pulled a piece of chalk out of his jeans and scribbled another sigil on the door.

“What do you mean next time they dropped in? What the hell does that mean Ash?” River yelled at him.

He turned and smiled over his shoulder, “Those two die more than anyone else I’ve ever met. Each time they drop in they can’t remember the last time they’ve been here.” He disappeared behind the swinging door and River’s mouth dropped open. She only had one concrete memory of Dean dying and that was when the Hellhounds killed him. Sam, she had never witnessed die. She knew the brothers had seen the other die a few times; Dean being killed in a thousand different and terrible ways when Gabriel stuck them in a time loop and Sam most recently when Anna stabbed him after they traveled to the past to try and save their parents. 

“How many times do you two think you’ve been resurrected?” River asked.

“I don’t want to know,” Dean answered. Ash came back through the swinging door bringing with him a long lost friend. Pamela Brown, psychic extraordinaire sauntered into the room. Her dark brown curly hair bouncing with each step, her chestnut eyes bright and clear and she smiled coyly at the trio of hunters.

“Well, hello there.” She said.

River jumped off her bar stool and ran to her friend, “Pam! Pam, oh my god!” She embraced the psychic tightly, “Girl, you look fucking fantastic. For being dead and all…” 

Pam laughed, “You don’t look so bad yourself for apparently also being dead.” She turned to each of the brothers and gave them a quick hug and a pat on the ass. Sam smiled nervously as the woman gave him a flirty wink. “Get us some drinks, Ash,” she called over her shoulder to the shorter man. Pam hooked her arms through Dean and River’s and led them towards a table next to Ash’s laptop. Sam sat back down in front of the computer glancing at the wavering lines of Angelic frequency. Ash sat shots of whiskey in front of everyone and then continued to type code into his computer. “First off,” Pamela said knocking back her shot of whiskey, “Screw the lot of you for getting me killed.”

River sipped her whiskey, “Yeah, we’re getting pretty good at getting our friends killed.”

Dean smiled, “Hey, we got Ash here killed way before we even met you either one of you.” 

“I’m cool with being dead,” Ash yelled in between taps on the keyboard.

Pamela gave Dean another flirty smile, “I didn’t say I was mad. I just said screw you. You told me I was going somewhere better.” 

Dean shrugged, “It what’s your supposed to say to people who are dying.”

The psychic put her hand over Dean’s, “You were right. I did go somewhere better. I’m at a never ending show at the Meadowlands. It’s amazing. You two should come see it.”

River pushed the rest of her whiskey away, “Spending eternity in your own little universe with nothing but memories, with shadows. That’s not heaven that’s the fucking Matrix.”

Pamela turned her dark eyes on River, “Once you’re really checked in you won’t the difference. If you do get bored Ash here has lots of ways to keep things interesting.”

“I don’t want to be checked in. I want to go home,” River told her. 

Dean drank the rest of River’s whiskey and said, “I gotta side with Riv on this one Pam. This isn’t real, sure it’s a nice copy but real is down there.”

“Down there’s not gonna be too much fun for very much longer though, right?” Pam said. “Not if Lucifer has his way.”

“What do you want us to do?” Dean asked.

Pamela shrugged her shoulders, “I know Michael wants to take you for test drive. All I’m asking is what the worst that happens?”

“A lot of people die,” Dean answered immediately.

“And all those people come here. For eternity in everlasting peace and happiness…or they stay down there and suffer while the Horseman dredge up every terrible thing they can imagine to make Earth a living hell.”

“And what about Dean?” River asked her. 

Pamela held her hands up, “All I’m saying is maybe Dean doesn’t have to fight so hard.”

River opened her mouth to respond when Ash called, “I found you a direct path to the Garden.” She gave Dean a tight smile before they stood up from the table to join Ash and Sam at the swinging door that led elsewhere. 

“Before you go again,” Pam said smiling, she brushed her long curly hair over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows questioningly at River. “Do you mind?” 

River smiled, “I guess I owe you one for letting you get killed.” Pam ran her tongue along her lower lip and looked at Dean like she about to swallow him whole. 

Dean took a tentative step back and ran into the wall behind him. “Wait…what?” Pam ran her hands along the lapels of his jacket, grabbed them tightly and stood on the tips of her toes to reach his lips. Dean’s green eyes shot open as Pam nibbled his bottom lip and tilted her head pushing her lips firmer against his. Dean stood still as a statue, his cheeks turning bright pink as he finally met River’s eyes. She held a hand over her mouth and was trying unsuccessfully to not laugh at Dean’s shocked face.

Pam finally pulled away smiling, “Just how I imagined.” 

Dean nodded shyly and cleared his throat, “Ok then…I guess we should get going.” 

Ash shook their hands, “Well I probably shouldn’t say this but I’ll probably be seeing you soon.” They walked through the doorway and as it swung shut behind them they found themselves not in a Garden of any sort but back in the Winchester’s childhood home. This time though it was night, the house quiet and dark. 

“What the hell are we doing back home?” Dean asked. “God damn it, Ash.”

“Honey, what are you doing up?” Mary called softly behind them. She padded into the room almost silently in her white fleece socks, her long blonde hair loose and tousled with sleep. “Did you have a nightmare?” she asked.

“I love you, mom. I do. But this is not real and we don’t have time for this,” Dean told her as he walked towards the front door.

Mary cocked her head to the side, “Let me tell you about my nightmare Dean.” Dean and the others stopped and turned back to Mary. “It was the night I burned.” Blood soaked through Mary’s white nightgown, dripping down her legs and pooled at her feet. 

River grabbed for Dean’s arm, “What the shit is this?”

Mary stepped towards them and continued talking, “The night I burned. The smell…I thought I had forgot a roast in the oven untilI realized it was me. My hair caught fire and my eyelashes…I never loved you. You were a burden-“

“Enough! Stop it!” River yelled pulling Dean towards the door. “We need to get the hell out of here.” The house shook, a loud ‘clang’ echoed as every door and window was suddenly replaced by a wall of bricks. “Fuck,” she breathed turning back towards Mary who continued to spew vile, hateful things at Dean.

“I think thats quite enough, Mary.” Zachariah said appearing behind Mary placing a hand on her shoulder possessively. 

“You did this to her,” Dean yelled pointing a finger at Zachariah. 

The Angel nodded, “Oh and I’m just getting started. You idiots think you can sneak past mission control?” He laughed and clapped his hands, three more angels appeared behind the hunters each grabbing on of them and Mary disappeared. “Lets get down to business shall we.”

“We’ve heard your song and dance, Zach. The answers still no,” Dean told him. 

“I used to be somebody. I would walk the halls of Heaven and others would avert their eyes. And now because of you two pissants…this is your opportunity to end this now. Say yes to Michael, Dean. Help him smite Lucifer and save the ones you love.” 

Dean shook his head, “Fuck off, baldy.” 

Zachariah smiled broadly, “I can keep you here for as long as I need to. Your meat sacks down there will rot but I can fix them when you’re ready.”

“You think havin’ my mom say mean things to me is gonna make say yes to being an Archangel condom? You’re wasting your time,” Dean muttered.

“Yes, well now I seem to have a bit more leverage on you. You’re in my yard now kids. My rules. Down there, everything is so limited. You are limited but here…” Zachariah waived his hand and the Angel holding River shoved her forwards. “You know up here we don’t just have access to your good memories. We can also pick through all your bad ones.” He reached one hand out and ran it down River’s face, she flinched away from the Angels touch. “How about we make River replay her worst memory over and over and over and then we’ll see what your answer is?” Zachariah snapped his fingers and River sagged forward, her stomach suddenly bulging and heavy.

“No -no -no-no-no,” she whispered backing away from him. Her hands went protectively to her hugely pregnant stomach, she felt the babies inside of her kick. “Please don’t do this-“ her voice cracked. “Zachariah please don’t do this to me.” She begged, her voice tight as she tried to choke back panicked sobs.

“I’m not doing this to you. He is.” Zachariah answered. He snapped his fingers and River fell to her knees as unbelievable pain ripped through her. Invisible claws were ripping and tearing her apart from the inside as hot blood and amniotic fluid gushed though her jeans and splattered onto the floor between her legs. She threw her head back and screamed. Zachariah’s smiled widened and he stepped back from the growing pool of blood not wanting to get any of it on his shoes.

 

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and blanched, “Not real. Not real.” River continued to scream.

“Stop it!” Sam yelled. 

“What’s your answer, Dean?” Zachariah asked over River’s screams of agony. Dean kept his eyes shut and shook his head. “Well then, I can keep this up forever. What about you, River?” She didn’t answer. “No? Probably too noisy... Did you know she could hear them Dean? Hear your sons screaming as Lilith ripped them apart? She never told you that, did she?”

“Enough, Zachariah.” A firm voice commanded. The house trembled slightly as another figure joined them. The pain tormenting River ended, the blood was gone, her pregnant stomach returned to its normal size and she took a deep shuddering breath. Zacharaiah looked at the unassuming older man that stood quietly between him and the humans. 

“Who the hell are you?” He demanded. 

“I need to talk privately with them. If you don’t mind,” the man told him. 

“Actually I do mind,” Zachariah replied.

The man gave Zachariah a benevolent smile, “Then I have to insist. You see the Boss demands it. Who are you to stand in the way of His Will? It might make Him cranky. You know how he gets when’s he cranky. And when he does come home I wouldn’t want to be in the way of all that pent up wrath.” 

Zachariah sneered at the stranger then turned his angry eyes towards River, “We aren’t done here.” Then he and his goons were gone. The man reached one hand down to River and she grasped it letting the man pull her to her feet.

Dean rushed forwards and pulled her tightly to his chest, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He murmured into her hair.

“Who are you?” Sam asked the man. 

“I’m Joshua. I heard you were looking for me,” he said quietly. 

Dean let go of River, “You ok?” She nodded weakly. 

“Ms. McGregor, I do apologize for Zachariah’s behavior. I can send you on your way now. What I have to say is only meant for them,” Joshua told her.

River shook her head, “No. Send me back, please. Joshua, please I don’t want to stay here alone.”

Joshua ran a hand along her cheek in the same way Zachariah did; unlike the vile touch of Zachariah, Joshua’s hand felt warm and comforting, “You are never alone, child. Now go.” With the quiet command River disappeared.   
“No! Where did you send her?” Dean yelled at the Angel. 

Joshua looked up at Sam and Dean, their house dissolved and was replaced with lush plants in every shade of green imaginable. Flowers of every species bloomed around them, pressing in on a stone walkway they stood on. “You had something you wanted to discuss?” he asked the brothers. 

River’s eyes shot open and she coughed painfully, taking a deep breath with lungs that hadn’t been used in several hours. She had a view of the dusty underside of a bed, a long forgotten pair of women’s underwear lay in a crumpled ball near the wall. She pushed herself up to her knees, several chunks of avocado green carpet fibers were stuck to the dried blood on her chest. She wiped at the smear of blood looking for the wound that had killed her and found nothing but intact flesh. “What the fuck just happened, Dean?” she asked. “Dean?” she asked again jumping to her feet. Dean was still sprawled on the bed, his skin mottled and purple, his eyes partially rolled into the back of his head. His torso a bloody mess of buckshot. “Sam? Sammy?” she yelled. Sam was in the same condition as his brother. “No. No. Why aren’t you back? Why aren’t you back?” she yelled at their dead bodies. River found her cellphone on the nightstand, covered in congealed blood but still working. She tried to call Castiel but got a ‘Caller is out of service area’ message. She sat on the bed next to Dean’s dead body and took his cold, stiff fingers in her hand and told him, “I need a shower hot stuff.”

Sam woke up first, spluttering and coughing as he drew in a deep breath. Dean followed a few seconds later. They met each others eyes before looking down to the empty spot on the floor where River should have been. “River?” Dean yelled. 

She opened the bathroom door her hair thrown over her shoulder as she twisted it into a braid, “Hey, welcome back.”

Dean jumped up from the bed and rushed towards her. “You alright?” he asked pulling up on her shirt. His laid a hand on her chest wanting to see and feel she was in one piece.

“Define alright?” she replied.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dean asked her quietly resting his forehead on hers. His hand trailed down from her chest to rest on her stomach.

“You have enough to shoulder, Dean. This is mine.” River told him, “It doesn’t change anything. You can’t let them use me against you.” 

He leaned down and kissed her gently, running his lips over, “We’re in this together, remember?” 

“What did Joshua tell you?” Castiel asked announcing his return to their service area. He looked around the bloody mess of the room. Sam sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Castiel looked tired and drained. He had dark circles under his eyes and he slouched under the tan fabric of his trench coat.

Dean looked down at the bloody, bullet hole riddled shirt he till wore. “Well, seems like Lemmy was right ‘cause God ain’t on our side, pal.” River sagged into the wall. 

“What do you mean?” Castiel asked. 

“I mean, Joshua told us God isn’t coming to help. He staying on the sidelines for this one. We’re on our own, Cas.” Dean told him pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it on the bloody bed.

Castiel shook his head, “No. Maybe-maybe Joshua was lying.”

“I don’t think he was, Cas.” Sam told him. Castiel ran his hands along his jaw. 

“You son of a bitch,” he said angrily. “I believed in you! I served you! This is how you repay us!” he yelled. He punched the wall and the whole room shook causing River to yelp in surprise. The Angel took a deep breath and flicked his invisible wings causing the lamps to flicker. “Here,” he growled reaching into one of his pockets, “I promised I would return it. It’s useless to me now.” He held Dean’s amulet in front of him. 

Dean took his necklace back, “Thanks…I guess.” He looked at the ugly copper head that had been a fixture around his neck for twenty years. It had been one of his most cherished possessions and now all he saw was another symbol of failure. Castiel turned away from them. 

“Cas! Wait!” River called out. She saw his shoulders tense then he was gone; one of the lamps on the nightstand exploded . “Shit…I don’t think he’s ok.” 

“Well, neither are we sweetheart.” Dean answered.

Sam stared at the empty spot and slightly charred piece of carpet Cas had left behind, “We can still do this, Dean. We can stop this.”

“How?” Dean asked running the amulet between his fingers.

“I don’t know. But we can.” Sam answered.

“We’ll find something, Dean. We’ll figure something out,” River said as Dean dug around in his duffle bag for a clean shirt. He pulled it over his head and stared at her.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand, Princess.” He slung their duffle bags over his shoulder and headed for the motel room door. River rubbed her palms into her eyes tiredly and watched as Dean dropped his necklace into the trashcan beside the door. Sam’s face fell as the door slammed shut. 

River hugged him, “We’ll find a way. Something that doesn’t end in him saying ‘yes’ to Michael. No matter what happens, we can’t let him say yes.”

“You’re not worried about me saying yes to Lucifer?” Sam asked her. She laughed finding no humor in that scenario and pushed him away.

“Honestly, yeah I’m fucking terrified of it,” she told him. “It kind of feels like you two are in a race to see who says ‘yes’ first. But Dean…we both know he won’t let you get to the finish line first.”


	54. Chapter 54

Ch 54  
Authors warning: descriptions of rape

Dean, Sam and River spent the first few days after their trip to Heaven in the car. Dean stopping only a few times for gas and food trying to outrun or out maneuver any hunters or pissed off Angels that might be tailing them. The monotonous hours spent barreling down blacktop caused River to finally fall asleep out of sheer boredom; she dreamt of Zachariah and his sick smiling face as he tortured her. She woke up in a cold sweat and chalked it up to stress. Dean gave her a concerned look from the rearview mirror. She winked at him and popped open an energy drink.

By the third day they found a case; a simple salt and burn, something to work out their frustrations and maybe do a little good for someone. After the vengeful spirit had been deep fried and the family it was bothering was deemed safe, the trio got a couple of rooms at a local motel. Dean and River skipped dinner and a bar run with Sam to enjoy the privacy of their own room. 

Sam finally banged on the wall close to 2:00 am yelling at Dean to let River tap out and get some sleep. River’s flushed skin turned a deeper shade of red and she bit down on her lips trying to stifle a moan threatening to escape. Dean laughed, adjusting the leg she had propped on his shoulder, “You ready to tap out, Princess?” 

She nodded, “Yes. Fuck, please. I can’t…” 

“Mmmm, I think you can,” Dean growled as he adjusted his angle, fingers squeezing into the soft curve of her hips to anchor her where he wanted her. The snap of his hips drove the headboard into the wall hard enough to knock a hanging picture down in Sam’s room. Sam responded with another angry bang on the wall. A wolfish grin crossed his face as Dean dropped one hand between her legs, his thumb finding her slick, overstimulated pearl and River pressed her hands over her mouth trying to maintain a modicum of decency for anyone within earshot as he drove her over the edge again. Dean collapsed next to her a few minutes later, pulling her into his chest, and humming in contentment.

“I need a shower,” she yawned. 

Dean reached over her grabbed his pistol off the nightstand and tucked it underneath his pillow. “In the—“ he paused breaking into a yawn as well, “ morning.” 

“I smell like sex.” River yawned again.

“I like the way you smell and taste and sound,” he said kissing her neck and wrapping his arms and legs around her. “Get some sleep, sweetheart.” Their room was soon filled not with the sounds that had been keeping Sam awake but with River’s soft breathing and Dean’s occasional snore. River slept for less than an hour before jerking awake, her hands once again going to her mouth. This time to drown out the sound of a frightened sob and not lust filled moan. Cold sweat rolled down her back, her stomach clenched from anxiety and a burn of shame seared her skin. She’d dreamt of the Shifter for the first time in a long, long time. His yellow eyes staring down at her, his hot breath on her face as he leaned over her, pinning her under him with his supernatural strength. She dreamt of Zachariah standing idly by as she screamed for help.

“Your head is full of these little memories you’ve tried so hard to bury,” Zachariah told her as he bent down to look her in the eyes as the Shapeshifter continued his assault. The Shifter had her bent over a table with her arms pinned behind her back in one of his strong hands. The rough wood of the table bit into her cheek every time the Shifter thrust his hips against her.

She squeezed her eyes shut and chanted, “Wake up, wake up, wake up.”

“You’ll wake up when I let you,” the Angel responded. “You listen to me you filthy mud monkey: I’ll be here waiting, every time you close your eyes I’ll have another of these gems waiting for you. I’ll make you feel everything all over again. Or, you can help me. Talk some sense into Dean.” He looked up disinterested at the Shapeshifter, who had a lit cigaret dangling from his lips as he grabbed a handful of River’s sweaty red hair and pulled her head back at a painful angle and growled something foul into her ear. “Tell me how is this so different than all those disgusting things you let Dean do to you?” A chunk of ash fell from the tip of the Shifters cigaret and landed on her back. The memory of the stinging burn had been enough to break through Zachariah’s hold and she’d nearly jumped out of bed. 

River looked down at Dean who still slept peacefully then searched the dark floor until she found his discarded shirt. She slipped into it and paced the small room in her bare feet; Dean’s scent still clung to the fabric and was comforting, erasing the stench of Marlboro’s stuck in her mind. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked out the motel room window half expecting to see Zachariah’s rat-like face leering at her. The parking lot was dark and empty except for the dark shape of the Impala. She shivered and her stomach rolled again. Her phone lay on the table next to Dean’s and she briefly considered calling Cas for his input on Zachariah’s new tactic. In the end she decided against involving the Angel, for now at least. 

Dean woke a few hours after dawn. River sat at the small table in front of the one window, laptop open and a notebook in front of her. “Mornin’ sunshine,” he said as he sat up and stretched. “Been up long?” 

River shook her head and lied, “No maybe an hour or so. Coffee?” She asked nodding to a waiting cup of black coffee. He sat at the table and pulled her notepad towards him eyebrows raised questioningly. “Potential demonic omens. Thought maybe we could snag us a couple of mooks and beat some info out of them?”

“What sort of info?” Dean asked sliding the list back. 

“I dunno like where the hell we find the last two Horseman?” River glanced out the window as Sam went jogging by. Dean remained silent. “What’s up with you?” She asked.

“Nothing.” He answered too quickly.

“Nothing? Last night was nothing?” Her fingers pulled at the collar the too-big shirt she still wore reminding him of the dark marks he’d left on her neck and chest. “I mean you’re pretty much the cats pajamas in that department Winchester…but I’m pretty sure there was something else on your mind besides fucking me senseless.” River said matter of factly.

He took a long sip of his coffee. “Joshua.” He said dropping the Angels name. “He said I’m losing faith. In myself, in Sam, in fixing this.”

“Are you?” 

He shrugged watching as Sam completed another lap around the parking lot, “I don’t know if I ever had faith. God was our last, best hope and now we got nothing.”

“That’s never stopped us before.” She told him. “I have faith. In you, in Sam, in Cas, in us. Screw God, screw the Angels and definitely screw Lucifer and his black-eyed asshat demons. Gabriel died to save you and Sam. Cas fell from heaven for you two idiots. We owe it to them to keep trying. We can figure something out….or die trying.”

He let out a deep sigh, “Where’s the closest omen?”

River smiled, “Couple of hours from here.”

It took them another couple of days to pinpoint the source of the omens. Another couple of days that Zachariah was able to visit River when she drifted off for even a few minutes of rest. Each time he offered up another terrible memory, each time she jerked herself awake after less than an hour of sleep. The brothers, for the most part, had become more or less accustomed to her nightmares waxing and waning with the amount of stress they were under and didn’t notice anything abnormal.

“We gotta hike in so they don’t see us coming.” Dean said. “You good?” His forrest green eyes reflected back at her from the rearview mirror. 

She nodded, trying to clear the remnants of the dream; this time she and Zachariah stood within a salt circle watching helplessly as Suki, her friend and mentor, was ripped apart by invisible Hellhounds. “How much longer can you go without sleep?” Zachariah asked. “You humans,” he spat the word out with disdain, “are hardwired to need it. How long until you get yourself hurt? Or Sam? Or Dean?” He paused as Suki let out an earsplitting scream. “You’re weak. Weak and useless. But you’re not stupid. You know Dean can’t win this fight, he can’t stop Lucifer alone. Michael is the only one that can stop Lucifer.”

The nest ran leaving behind a dozen rotting meat suits before the Hunters could lay siege . The one demon they were able to trap didn’t spill any insider secrets on how to find Pestilence or Death. The demon pleaded ignorance even after Dean stabbed the Demon Knife into his knee caps. “Any more bright ideas?” Dean harped after they burned the bodies and returned to the car. 

River shrugged, “I got a whole list of bright ideas we can check out.” She dug the list out of her jacket pocket and handed it to Sam. She rubbed her eyes and slouched in the backseat fighting the urge to fall asleep. 

“This one. The lake in the center of town turned to blood, cattle mutilations, bad weather,” Sam said looking over his shoulder at River. She gave him a glassy eyed, disinterested stare. “You look like shit. When was the last you slept?” he asked. Dean turned in his seat to also give her a once over. 

River straightened up and rolled her shoulders, “Thanks Samsquatch. I slept earlier, when we were driving to this shit hole.”

Sam shook his head, “No you didn’t. You were out for a couple of minutes before you started mumbling in your sleep and woke back up.” She couldn’t think of an excuse fast enough.

“We’re stoppin’ for the night. And we’re all going to sleep until noon tomorrow. Then we’ll check out Lake Placid.” Dean said. They stopped a few hours later at flea bag motel advertising clean sheets and a laundromat! “Eat, sleep, laundry before we go in the morning?” Dean asked the other two as they entered the room. River and Sam nodded tossing their duffle bags at the foot of each tiny double bed. They ate their takeout and took turns in the shower; River won Paper-Rock-Scissors and got the shower first. Followed by Sam who took his sweet time trying to use up all the hot water before Dean could get in.

The TV in the room did not work so they settled on the radio. River sang quietly along to the songs she knew and hummed to the ones she didn’t. “You want to fool around while Sam’s in the shower?” Dean asked as he and River sorted through their dirty clothes. He caught River off guard, who had started doing her best ‘Flashdance’ routine to go along with the 80’s song drifting over the radio. She stopped mid dance, a pair of someones boxers in hand, and looked at him. 

“What? Right now?” She gave him a small smile, eyes glancing over the closed bathroom door. “I don’t know if we should. Sam-” Dean took that as a positive answer. A growl rumbled in his chest, he dropped the flannel shirt splattered with someone or somethings blood and picked her up wrapping her legs around his hips and walked the short distance across the room towards their bed. He laid River on the bed then crawled on top of her. The bed frame creaked loudly. Dean’s hands immediately started roaming and slipping into the loose cotton sweatpants slung low on her soft hips. His lips sucking at the tender spot where her neck and shoulder met, fingers finding their way beneath her underwear and running through the short, soft curls of hair. She gasped, “Easy tiger, you said fool around. Sam is in the shower he’ll be done any minute.”

“We are foolin’ around.” Dean murmured against her neck. 

“Sam’s gonna be pissed if the first thing he see’s when he gets out of the shower is your naked ass.” River sighed as Dean rocked his hips against hers.

“Then how about you get on top for a while,” he wrapped his hands around her hips and turned them over anchoring River on to his lap. She rolled her hips earning another rumble from Dean’s chest.

River ran her tongue along his neck and murmured in to his ear, “Don’t start what you can’t finish, hot stuff.”

“We should’ve got two rooms.” He replied, his lips once again pressing against her, teasing his tongue against hers.

“We need to sleep. Got demons to hunt in the morning, remember?” she said.

“I don’t really feel like wasting more time chasing dead ends. It’s gettin’ down to the wire, sweetheart.” He sat up, keeping her firmly in his lap.

“They’re not all going to be dead ends,” River told him running her fingers through his hair. “We still have time-“

“ I’d rather stockpile some canned food,” He said interrupting her with a kiss, “rent a cabin somewhere and we spend our last days with my face between your thighs.”

“That’s real classy, Dean,” Sam drawled from the now open bathroom door. River snorted laughter. Dean growled again, this time in frustration. “Shower’s all yours.” Sam said smiling at his sulking older brother. River crawled off Dean’s lap so he could grab the last of his clean clothes from the top of his duffle bag and retreat to the bathroom.

“Oh! Son of a bitch that’s freezing,” Dean yelled angrily a few minutes later. Sam and River’s eyes met and they broke into laughter at Dean’s expense. Once Dean’s grumbling died down River went back to sorting through their dirty clothes and stuffing the items that needed to be washed into one bag. 

“You know I’m all grown up. I can do my own laundry,” Sam told her. 

River smiled. “I don’t mind. Gives me something to do and I’ve seen your undies before Mr. SAXX.” She said dangling a pair of his briefs between her fingers before shoving them into the bag with rest of the dirty laundry. 

Sam considered her for a moment, “Are you alright? Zachariah, he’s…a special kind of douchebag.”

She set the bag of dirty laundry down at her feet. “No.” She looked towards the bathroom door where the shower still sounded. “I’m not alright. But I wasn’t alright before going to Heaven though, so, not much has changed.” She sat on the edge of the bed next to Sam’s long legs. “How ‘bout you?”

Sam smiled, “I’m a recovering demon blood junkie that started the Apocalypse. Oh and I’m the Devils perfect vessel. So you know, I’m doing remarkably well.” Dean suddenly yelled in surprise as the water turned from freezing to scalding hot and they laughed again. “You know he loves you.” Sam said leaning forward and looking at her. “Dean’s an idiot. A really big idiot. And I don’t know what sort of spell he’s cast on you to keep you putting up with his- with our bullshit…but the way he looks at you when your not looking…I’ve only seen him look at pie and his car like that.” 

River shook her head, feeling the warmth blossoming across her cheeks. “He’s got a lot on his plate right now.“

Sam sat forward and wrapped one of his huge, warm hands over hers. “No, he loves the shit out of you. And if you two wanna bail and ride this out I wouldn’t blame you. I did this, I screwed the world because I wouldn’t listen to you guys-“

“It’s not your fault. We’re family and in case you haven’t noticed,” she leaned towards the radio sitting on the nightstand between the beds and cranked up the volume, “….It’s gonna take a lot to take me away from you/ There’s nothing that a hundred men, or Angels or Demons, could ever do.” She sang loudly. “Come on Sammy you know the lyrics-“

“Alright, lights out,” Dean said opening the bathroom door. 

“Dude, it’s not even midnight,” Sam complained. 

“You guys want to hunt demons then we need sleep,” he replied. River didn’t want to sleep, she wanted to make a pot of coffee and catch up on ‘Dr. Sexy, M.D.’ episodes while Sam and Dean slept. She didn’t want to see Zachariah’s rat-fuck face, didn’t want to know what horrible memory he’s dredged for the evenings entertainment, didn’t want to hear his sanctimonious voice. Before she could give him an excuse to not go to sleep just yet, Dean swooped her off of Sam’s bed, slinging her over his shoulder like his duffle bag before tossing her on their bed which gave another indignant squeak when he landed next to her a second later. She could barely reach the lamp on the nightstand before Dean pulled her towards him, not leaving an inch of space between them.

“How do you sleep like that?” Sam asked stretching out on his own bed. Dean burrowed further into the lumpy mattress, pulling her with him. At least when you slept with Dean you were never cold and definitely never alone. 

“She’s like a soft, warm pillow that smells like cookies and has boobies,” Dean answered.

Sam laughed again as River elbowed Dean in the stomach and muttered, “Boobies? Really? You are the worst, Winchester.” They eventually stopped joking and one by one fell asleep. River finally relaxed enough to drift off in Dean’s arms hoping Zachariah had better things to do than harass her. 

She was wrong. The Angel had nothing better to do besides pick through her bank of terrible memories and sit back while she dreamt. 

The stench of Marlboro Red’s and sour fear laced sweat filled her nostrils. She pried her tired eyes open and saw the Shifter lounging a few feet away, cigarette dangling from his lip and surveying her with his sick yellow eyes. She pulled at the handcuffs chaining her wrists to a metal pipe that disappeared into the cement floor. She tried to spit out the bloody rag shoved in her mouth. The dirty mattress underneath her smelled like cockroaches and mold. Her torn bloody clothes were laying in a damp pile at Zachariah’s feet. The Angel kneeled down to look her in the eyes, always in the eyes during these little meetings as a way to further prove he controlled the narrative. “I’ll give you one thing you are stubborn as all get out.” He said condescendingly. River yelled something unintelligible through the gag. “What was that?” Zachariah asked plucking the disgusting piece of fabric out of her mouth.

“I said fuck you. You feathered, bald, dickbag,” River retorted. Her eyes flicked towards the Shifter who had stood up, completely unaware of the Angel and sauntered towards her. Sweat broke out along her hairline as he walked closer, erect penis swaying with each step. He was always hard, never tired, ready to hurt her again, just like she remembered. She turned her face away from the memory as he kneeled on her free side. He blew a mouthful of cigarette smoke into her face before his long slug like tongue slithered its way up her cheek. River gagged at his disgusting breath. “What is the point of this shit, Zachariah? I’ve lived through this. I know how the story fucking ends. It ends with Dean blowing this motherfuckers brains out.”

The Shifter edged closer, hands prying her knees apart. River kicked her legs at him, yanking at the handcuffs. “Don’t you fucking touch me.” She growled at the monster. The Shifter responded by putting out the cigarette in the inner curve of her hip and River screamed in pain.

Zachariah laughed, “That’s why. Because you remember it, you feel it. You think this is the worst of it?” He shook his head as the Shifter overpowered her. “Things will get so much worse for you after Sam gives in to Lucifer. After Dean lets him destroy the world.“ River bucked her hips trying to throw the heavy monster off of her. “And it won’t stop…unless Dean consents to Michael. Dean wants to protect you. He will do what needs to be done to make sure you are safe. Help him make the right decision.” 

“And all the innocent people that are gonna burn when Michael and Lucifer duke it out in the stratosphere? “ River spat as the Shifter forced his narrow hips between her legs. “Wake up! Wake up! God damn it!” She screamed at herself thumping her head desperately against the thin mattress. She gasped in pain as the monster forced himself inside her; she pulled again at the handcuffs knowing this wasn’t the night she had escaped and the binds would hold strong.

Zachariah sneered, “No, not yet. I want you to tell Dean exactly what’s been going on. You tell him the only way to make me stop, the only way to...save you is to play ball with Michael.”

“Dean’s gonna kill you,” she said squeezing her eyes shut. Angry at the tears falling from her eyes and humiliated that Zachariah was witnessing another of her worst memories. 

Zachariah pressed his lips together and sat back a bit on his heels. “In Heaven I have six wings and four faces, one of which is a lion. Dean Winchester is…pathetic. A lost, scared little boy still trying to fit into daddy’s jacket. He’s a blight on my otherwise spotless record. But he could be something, someone important. The most important man in creation-“

“And what about Dean when Michael is done with him?” River asked quietly, trying to keep her voice even.

“Dean will be welcomed into the kingdom of Heaven. Don’t you worry about him. Worry about yourself. Worry about what’s going to happen to you the next time you die. You’re  
teetering on the edge of damnation, River. One misstep and it’s eternal Hellfire for you.” Zachariah’s slick grin widened, “Imagine all the nasty things waiting for you. This is a preview of what your afterlife will be…. Or you help me seal the deal with Dean and I will personally make sure you and him spend eternity together in your choice of romantic locale.”

“I’d rather go to Hell than have Dean give in to Michael,” She told him through gritted teeth. 

“That can be arranged.”Zachariah gave her one final venomous sneer before disappearing. She woke a moment later, shooting up in the bed shoving her fist in her mouth to stop the scream that wanted to escape. Sam grunted in his sleep. Dean snored into his pillow and River took deep breaths trying to force down the bile burning her throat. The red light on the radio showed she’d once again got only a few hours of restless sleep. Her brain was foggy and limbs heavy with exhaustion as she carefully got out of bed making sure not to wake either brother, grabbed her gun, and shimmied back into her boots. After tucking her phone into the pocket of her sweatpants she grabbed the bag of dirty laundry from the floor and quietly left the motel room.

The motel’s overnight manager was standing outside the office smoking a joint in the cool air. He nodded his chin at her and River nodded back trying not to cough as she walked through his cloud of pungent smoke. The laundry room was empty at this predawn hour and she took a few minutes to load several washers with their dirty clothes. After the final washer was sloshing, River grabbed her phone and swung her self on top of one of the empty driers. She stared at the blank screen for several long minutes debating with herself if she should make the phone call. Her head ached, every muscle in her body felt tense. The aching burn of self-disgust and humiliation that her relationship with Dean had helped erase, were back. Her skin felt soiled and dirty. Part of her was afraid to seek help from Castiel because she didn’t want him to witness any of the terrible things Zachariah had dug up from her memory. She also knew she couldn’t go forever with out sleep. If she fucked up on a hunt and got Sam or Dean or herself hurt, Castiel might not be able to help them. Then they might fall into Zachariahs’ lap out of sheer desperation. 

She quickly skimmed through her small list of contacts and pushed the green ‘send’ button once she found Cas’s number. The phones tinny ring echoed in her ear. She was beginning to get worried the Angel wouldn’t answer and she was not sure anyone had ever taught him how to check his voicemail when she heard rustling and someone mashing buttons on the other line followed by several long seconds of silence. “Cas?” River said unsurely. 

“Yes, River.” Cas answered, his gravelly voice flat and monotone.

“Hey,Cas I just...I just wanted to check in.” Doubt flared again in her belly to get Cas involved and she stalled for a moment. “I wanted to see how you’re doing. You left in a hurry the other night and we haven’t heard from you-“

Castiel sighed loudly, “I’ve been pondering the reason behind my continued existence.”

River nodded, “Yeah that sounds pretty heavy...look could you maybe come meet me so we can talk in person...I need your help.”

“Where are you?” Cas asked. 

“Outside of Tulsa at the Navajo Nights Inn. I’m in the laundry room.” There was a squeal of static, the lights in the laundry room flickered and Castiel appeared before her still holding his cellphone to his ear.

“I’m here.” The Angel said.

River smiled, “Yeah Cas I see that. We can hang up now.” The washers dinged and River jumped off the dryer and started moving the clothes around. “You know I miss seeing your wings.”

Cas tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket, “They’re still there I assure you. What sort of assistance do you need?”

River chewed her bottom lip and fed quarters into the dryers. “Is there anyway to keep Angels out of my head…I mean I know there is because Gabe did that thing… Is there anyway you can keep other Angels out of my head?”

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest, “Who’s harassing you?”

“It doesn’t matter who. Can you help me or not?” River replied. 

The Angel narrowed his cornflowers blue eyes and she felt the hairs on her arms stand on end. “Who?” He repeated.

“Alright, relax…this stays between me and you, got it?” Castiel gave her a quick nod. “It’s Zachariah. That rat-fucks been screwing with me since we made a pit stop in Heaven.” One of the fluorescent bulbs exploded and River let out a startled squeak. 

The Angel cursed in Enochian and paced the small room. “What’s he done?”

River picked at an invisible speck of dirt on her thumb. “Nothing… He’s cherry picking my bad memories; Lilith, the Shifter, my friends being ripped apart…”

“Did he mark you? Touch you in Heaven?” Castiel asked.

River nodded her head, “Yeah, he uh…he touched my cheek. I didn’t feel anything though, not like when you Etch-a-sketched my ribs.” Castiel paced the small laundry room rolling his shoulders. River remembered the way his wings looked when he was agitated, twitching and rustling with his nerves. “I can’t sleep, Cas. He won’t let me sleep and if I fuck up on the job and get Sam or Dean hurt…”

Dean rolled over in his sleep and stretched his arms. His fingers trailed over the cool spot next to him where River should have been. One tired green eye popped open scanning the room. “Sweetheart?” he called quietly, propping himself on one elbow. Sam murmured in his sleep. The bathroom was dark and empty. So was the small table and the space in front of the window. “Riv?” he called louder swinging his legs out of the bed.

Sam sat up groggily, brushing his shaggy hair out of his face, “What’s wrong?”

“Riv’s gone,” Dean muttered holding his cellphone up to his ear. He stood up and looked out the motel window. Nothing moved in the dark parking lot. 

“Shit. Dean’s awake.” River’s phone buzzed in her hand. “Hey-“

“Don’t ‘hey’ me, where the hell are you?” Dean barked into the phone.

“I couldn’t sleep. I’m doing the laundry I’m fi- shit,” she muttered as Dean hung up. A door slammed across the parking lot and he appeared a few seconds later. Wearing nothing but the flannel pants he’d fallen asleep in and his boots. Sam was close behind with his pistol ready.

“Cas? What the hell man?” Dean asked looking to the trench coat wearing Angel.

“It’s not Cas’s fault. I couldn’t sleep and I called him to make sure he was ok.” River said. Castiel tilted his head and looked unsurely between River and the Winchesters. River raised her eyes brows at him expectantly.

The Angels mouth disappeared into a thin line and River knew she had just lost the battle for secrecy. “Zachariah is coming to River in her dreams.”

“God Damn it, Cas, I just fucking asked you to keep this between me and you.” River yelled.

Dean crossed his arms over his bare chest and Sam stepped further into the laundry room. “What’s he showing you now? Any hints on what’s coming next?” The younger Winchester asked.

River sighed and shook her head. “It’s nothing like that he’s just...fucking with me. It’s just bad dreams, bad memories. Trying to get me to break. Trying to get you to break.” She said pointing to Dean. “I’m the weakest link in our merry band of fuckups and he’s knows that, everyone fucking knows that.” She added taking a deep tired breath and pushing the hair out of her face. “Just forget it. I’ll deal. He isn’t showing me anything I haven’t already lived through.” One of the driers dinged and River turned towards it.

Dean wound his fingers around her wrist gently, “What the hell does that mean?” 

River automatically yanked her arm away. It wasn’t Dean’s touch the felt wrong it was being touched at all while the vile memories of the Shifter were so raw and fresh. “Don’t- don’t touch me. He’s all over me. I smell him all over me.” She snapped her mouth shut aware of how close to panic and hysteria she sounded. She ran one pale hand across her mouth trying to wipe away the sour taste in her mouth.

Dean lowered his hand. “Who?” River avoided his gaze by stuffing clean clothes back into the canvas bag. His green eyes narrowed as dark pink patches of color lit up her cheeks giving him his answer. “The Shifter?” They had never discussed the finer points of exactly what the Shifter had done to her just like they had never gone over all of the tortures Dean had been dealt in Hell. But Dean remembered her nightmares, remembered seeing her drenched in cold sweat clutching the silver knife she always slept with. “Zachariah’s making you….that son of a bitch is dead.” He seethed, his fists shaking at his sides.

“There’s so much I’ve forgotten. So much I made myself forget...” River said quietly. “Zachariah wants you to go after him. To go in half-cocked and pissed off. To lose control so Michael can swoop in when something goes sideways- I need you to back off of this.” She said turning to look at Dean before looking over his shoulder at Castiel. “Cas, can you help me or not?”

He shook his head, “No. Whatever Zachariah did to you in Heaven I can not undo here. I’m sorry.” 

“Then what are we supposed to do, Cas?” Sam asked. The Angel disappeared suddenly causing another light bulb to explode.

“Well thanks anyways.” River muttered in Enochian.

“What?” Dean asked as she shoved the last of their clothes back into the bag and slung it over her shoulder.

“I’m going to shower, caffeine up and head back to Bobby’s.” She told him walking out of the laundromat and back towards their room.

“The hell you are,” Dean yelled after her as she slipped into the room. River stood at the foot of their bed tossing clothes into three separate piles when they entered. “ You’re not goin’ anywhere.” 

She picked a outfit from her selection of clean clothes and stuffed the rest into her green duffel bag. “Yes, I am.” She responded. “I need a shower. I smell like Marlboros and Shifter sweat.” 

“Riv, you don’t. It’s in your head. Sit down. I’ll make us some coffee. We’ll figure something out.” Sam said using his best, level headed tone.

River shook her head. “That’s becoming our fucking motto, ‘we’ll figure something out’. When? When I can’t see straight and shoot one of you on accident? When I fuck up, again, and get hurt, again.” She asked raising her eyebrows questioningly at Sam. He didn’t offer an answer so she turned back to Dean. “Please move. I don’t want to argue, I want a shower.” Dean stood in front of her, jaw set, green eyes narrowed.

“You aren’t leaving..” He reached his hand towards her and this time she didn’t flinch away. “You aren’t going anywhere with that douchebag in your head.”

“I’m a liability. You know I am.” She took his hand off her arm and kissed his palm. “Between Bobby and Rufus and Levi’s books I’ll find something. Or I wont. Either way, fuck that bald fuck because he isn’t gonna win. He’s not going to use me against you. I’m taking my self off the game board.” She stepped around him and into the small bathroom. Dean tried to follow her but was stopped when she pushed the flimsy lock into place with a hollow ‘click’. He gripped the door frame hard enough to turn his knuckles white. 

“Son of a bitch,” He muttered angrily. The wet staccato of the shower started a moment later. 

“Dean,” Sam began. 

Dean looked over his shoulder at his brother. “I swear to god, Sammy, if you say she’s right-“ Their argument was interrupted when the lights flickered followed by River letting out a startled scream. Sam grabbed his gun off the table as Dean kicked the door in causing River to scream again. She clutched the grimy white shower curtain to her chest and screamed at a flustered Castiel in a combination of Enochain and English.

“What the fuck Castiel? Get the fuck out! Out! God damn it Sam, fuck off!” She yelled pointing between the embarrassed Seraphim and the taller Winchester.. 

“Cas, what the hell dude?” Dean asked for the second time that night. 

Castiel looked between River, who was still yelling at him in broken Enochian, and the Winchester’s. “I-I-...” His cobalt blue eyes widened, a faint pink color flooding his cheeks. 

“Get the fuck out ! All of you! So I can get dressed!” River yelled throwing a bar of soap at Dean’s head. The sudsy chunk of soap bounced of his forehead and Dean nodded grabbing Cas by the trench coat and backing all of them out of the shower.

He tried to close the door but it hung lamely from its broken hinges. “ I broke the door.” Dean said through the splintered hole where the doorknob used to be.

“Thank you Captain Obvious.” River yelled back. She flung the door open a few minutes later and it fell completely away from the wall and clattered against the tub. “Yet another room where we are not getting the cleaning deposit back.” She muttered stepping around the fractured wood and scrunching her hair dry with a towel. She tossed the damp towel over shoulder and glared at Castiel. “So Cas, what was so god damn important you had to interrupt my shower?”

Castiel tucked his hands in coat, “I said I couldn’t help you.”

“Yeah, I remember Casie it was like thirty minutes ago. Since you’re here can you give me a lift to Bobby’s?” She asked tucking a few loose odds and ends into her duffle bag.

Castiel looked between her and Dean. “Why are you going to Bobby Singer’s?”

“Because I need to get out of here for a little while until I get this Zachariah thing under control.” River answered holding her right hand out towards Cas.

The Angel stared at her outstretched hand before taking it in one of his, “I said I couldn’t help you. But I know something that can.” From one of the pockets of his coats Castiel retrieved what looked like a small rock covered in green and red streaks of rusty tarnish.

“A dirty rock...thanks Cas.” River said looking at the lump in the Angels hand. Castle closed his hands around the rock, completely pulverizing it. “Shit, Cas I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” She said as he relaxed his fingers to show her the pile of dust and pebbles. Castiel blew gently on the dust revealing a small delicate ring.

He held the ring up for River to see reflecting the intricate filigree and deep blue lapis lazuli stone in the dim light from the bathroom. “This belonged to the Prophet, Shamash-Bel.” He said. River raised her eyebrows and gave Dean and Sam a look that meant “what the hell is he talking about?” 

“Shamash-Bel was a Sumerian prophet. He despised the visions he received from My father, fearing that they would anger the Anunaki, the gods of his people, and he would be put to death for blasphemy.” Castiel continued. “Shamash-Bel was desperate to stop his visions. He begged. He prayed for leniency and was denied. So he devised a way to block them.” River looked again at the ancient piece of jewelry Castiel held. “This ring is imbued with forbidden Enochian magic. If It can block the Word of God, it can keep Zachariah from entering your dreams.”

“How did you know about this?” River asked.

“When Shamash-Bel stooped receiving the Word of God upper management sent an emissary to investigate why. The emissary was under direct orders to turn the Prophet back to the service of God or smite him for disobedience. Shamash-Bel refused the emissary and was put to death. I was that Emissary, I smote the Prophet and buried him in a cave outside of Eridu. I should have destroyed the ring but it was a brilliant piece of magic.” He said smiling wryly and slipping the ring onto Rivers right middle finger.

“You sneaky bastard.” Dean muttered.

River twisted the ring around her finger, feeling a warm tingling sensation spreading through her hand. “Cas, I hope you won’t think we’re going steady now or anything because I kind of have a thing with Dean going.” She said smiling at the Angel.

“Yes, well if Dean liked it then he should have put a ring on it.” He answered. Sam let out a shocked laugh and River punched him in the shoulder.

“Hey, Sassy Casie I don’t want you learning pop culture from anyone but me and Dean.” She told him.

“I did learn that from Dean. He was singing it-“ Cas started.

Dean cleared his throat loudly, “Ok Cas, thank you for that. How do we know that things still going to work?” The Angel sighed and before River could move away from him he touched two fingers to her forehead instantly rendering her unconscious. He caught her before she collapsed to the floor and carried her to the bed. River curled onto her side and began snoring quietly as soon as Castiel laid her down.

“She’s going to be pissed at you when she wakes up,” Sam said. 

Castiel nodded. “At least she will be well rested.” He said before disappearing.


	55. Chapter 55

Ch 55

Dean and Sam’s semi-hushed bickering pulled River from the depths of sleep. “No, Dean look at the map it’s south on 89 then there’s a turn off near mile marker 45. We would’ve been there by noon if you’d had the map pointing the right direction.” Sam huffed jabbing his finger at a wrinkled map he held inches from Deans face. River sat up, stretched and pushed her hair out of her face and into a messy knot on top of her head.

“Yeah, well screw you Columbus.” Dean grumbled back. “Evening, princess. Feel better?” He asked looking over his shoulder at her.

River nodded. “How long have I been out?”

“‘bout ten hours.” Dean told her, squinting at the map in the dim sunlight before looking back at the passing road markers. 

“No wonder I have to pee so bad. Where are we?” She asked digging through the green cooler at her feet. She found a semi-cold bottle of water, cracked it open and quickly drank half of it.

“Couple miles outside of Pray.” Sam told her. Pray, Montana had been the next stop on the list she had complied of possible demon activity. “Doesn’t look good. Nothin’ but static on the radio, our cell phones died suddenly, batteries completely drained- Roll down your window and take a whiff.” 

She barely cracked the window when the overpowering stench of sulfur and rot burned her nose making her gag. “Fuck me,” she muttered. “How far are we from the lake?”

“Next turn off. Get your guns ready,” Dean answered. The sun was quickly setting and they were heading into a potential demonic hot spot. Sam tucked the demon killing knife into his jacket and quickly checked his and Deans pistols. While River grabbed her trusty tactical shotgun from under the seat and snapped salt filled shells into place. She stuffed handfuls of extra shells into her jacket pockets, tucked a silver bullet loaded revolver behind her back and a dagger into her boot. 

Dean found the turn off for the lake and parked the Impala at the edge of the water. The setting sun reflected grotesquely off bloated fish and decaying water fowl bobbing on the dark red surface of the polluted lake. The coppery tang of blood assaulted their senses with the shifting of the wind. The hunters shared a silent, worried look and piled back into the front seat of the car. 

“It’s really more of a glorified pond then a lake.” River muttered as Dean followed the winding trail away from the lake until they hit the quaint little town of Pray.

The street lamps flicked on as the sun disappeared behind the pine trees. The only sound was the growl of the Impala’s V8. Nothing moved as they coasted down Main Street. “Where the fuck is everyone?” River murmured.

Sam nodded to a pointed steeple raising a half story above the other buildings. “Good a place as any to start checking.” Dean angled the car towards the church, the passing streets just as empty and dark as the one they left behind. The church parking lot, however, was over flowing; cars were double parked, crammed into every available space, a few were even parked on the once pristine lawn. Dean stopped the Impala at the curb and they looked at the church for several long moments. The Church was the only building in town with the lights on but as far as they could tell nothing moved inside.

“Maybe they’re having a bake sale, you know? With one of those cake walks. Those things are lots of fun-“ River piped up finally. The Brothers looked down at her and she shrugged her shoulders. “I worked a case once with Suki at a church like this. They had a ‘Come-to-Jesus’ fundraiser and I elbowed this old bitty outta my way so I could win an entire Hummingbird cake… I can’t be the only one that takes baked goods that serious.”

“Or it could be demons,” Dean whispered harshly as they exited the car.

“It probably is demons. But maybe it isn’t.” River whispered back as they crept towards the giant red oak doors of the vestibule. A strong scent of burnt meat emanated from behind the churches doors. “Maybe it’s a church barbecue ?” She said hopefully to Dean. 

They silently counted to three, each brother grabbed a door and River took point as they entered the church. The majority of the town appeared to be crammed into the dark wood pews that ran in two equal rows down the length of the church. Dean took the left side, River continued down the middle between the rows and Sam took the right. Each man, woman and child sitting shoulder to shoulder with their neighbor was starring silently at the front of the church where the preacher stood with his back turned, chanting in a hissed, gurgled undertone, arms raised in praise at the horrific scene in front of him. Three charred bodies were tied to stakes that had been driven into the floor of the altar. The preacher’s chants rose in intensity, his voice wavering hoarsely with each word, “In nomine Dei nostri Satanas Luciferi Excelsi.” More Latin phrases were painted onto the walls and even the ceiling of the church in dark red streaks of blood. 

A chill ran down River’s spine and she looked across the aisle to Dean then opposite to Sam. “Not a bake sale.” She said gritting her teeth. The minister turned towards them as did the face of each congregant. Their eyes all shining malevolent black, their throats slit into gapping, ragged wounds. The minister raised one finger, pointed at Sam and screamed. The sound that came out of the dark maw of his mouth was inhuman, filled with the fury of hell. The congregation joined the minister in the blasphemous choir of demonic noise. 

“RUN!” Dean yelled over the demonic screams. River and Sam turned and fled back down the carpeted aisle towards the front doors. The sound of wooden pews scraped along the floor as a hundred demons scrambled up at once echoed behind them. The trio flew down the stairs back towards the waiting Impala only to be met in the parking lot by the town residents that couldn’t fit in the church. All with black eyes and slit throats. The stench of cordite, the metallic tang of blood and the crunch of salt rounds blowing apart the wall of bodies in front of them erupted immediately. For every demon they felled two more popped into their place. “Get to the car or we are dead!” Dean commanded over the gun fire. River and Sam disappeared into the swirling mass of snarling bodies. They finally made their way to the Impala. Sam was clutching a furiously bleeding wound to his upper arm, River’s cheek was covered in ragged fingernail scratches but they were breathing. Dean slid into the front seat while River pushed Sam into the back, jumping in after him as Dean stomped his foot on the gas. The Impala swung madly to the left, the backend threatening to fishtail as Dean desperately tried to get them away. River landed on Sam, who grunted in pain, blood seeping between his fingers and soaking his flannel shirt. 

She reached back under the seat for her medical kit.“ Shirt off Samasaurus, I have to see the wound. They could’ve got your brachial artery.” She told Sam as she tore the sleeve of his shirt and gingerly inspected the gash in his arm. Her blue eyes flicked between Sam’s wound and the mass of bodies running after them. “They’re still following us, D.”

“I know. I know, god damn it. How bad is Sam?” Dean yelled.

“I’m fine. Just get us the hell out of here.” Sam told him. River ripped the remains of Sam’s plaid shirt into strips and tied them tightly around the wound in his arm then wrapped a few feet of silver duct tape around it for added pressure.

“It’s not your artery. It’s just deep as fuck. If we live through this I’ll patch you up nice. Can you hold a gun?” River asked. Sam nodded and she loaded fresh rounds into his pistol. Several sets of headlights suddenly appeared behind them. “They got wheels now, hot stuff.” She warned Dean.

Dean spared a glance in the rear view mirror before adding more pressure on the gas pedal murmuring, “Come on Baby. You can do it” as the speedometer edged higher. River clambered over the front seat and landed heavily next to Dean. Any other situation and she would have just had her ass chewed for putting her dirty boots on his Baby’s upholstery but Dean didn’t so much as grunt in annoyance. She reached back towards Sam grabbing her shotgun off the seat and ejecting the spent shells onto the floorboard.

“I’ve never seen so many in one place. Why? How’d they fucking know? How’d they know we would come.” River asked checking the side mirror. A car was gaining on them exponentially faster than the others.

“Don’t know. Don’t care. We’re gonna die if we don’t get the fuck outta here,” Dean told her. He spun the car toward a faded road sign that read, “Big Sky- 2 miles.” River wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans and kept glancing in the side mirrors and over her shoulder. Dean barreled through a hairpin turn and slammed on the breaks, River was thrown forward and slammed her shoulder into the dash. “Son of a Bitch!” Dean roared. A big rig lay on its side engulfed in flames and completely blocking the road. Brakes squealed behind them as Dean shifted the car into reverse. 

The window next to Rivers head exploded inwards as several pairs of hands appeared out of the darkness grabbing her hair and arms pulling her through the jagged hole. She screamed and fumbled for her shotgun jamming it into the growling mouth of the demon that had its fingers clawing at her scalp. The shotgun went off and River tumbled backwards out of the car as a thick cloud of black smoke swirled out of the ruined face of the demon. “River!” Dean yelled jumping out of the car. Sam clambered out of the backseat, hacking and slashing with the demon knife. Rivers shotgun blasted again, another demons face disappeared into a mist of blood and smoke. She scrambled to her feet, boots slipping on pebbles of broken glass. There were too many hands grabbing and pulling. Too many bodies with the overpowering stench of sulfur and rot. Sam, Dean and River were outnumbered and losing quickly. Dean grunted painfully as he was choke slammed onto the hood of Baby. Sam was surrounded by a half dozen demons. The demon knife knocked out of his hand and sent skidding across the asphalt. 

River slammed fresh shells into her shotgun, pumped it and spun towards the demons surrounding Sam. “Sammy! Watch your ass!” she yelled before shooting into the mass surrounding him. He dove to the ground as the salt buckshot tore into the bodies in front of him. Two demons broke away and sprinted towards her, River skittered backwards reaching into her pockets for more shells only to come up empty handed. She turned the shotgun around and swung it like a club connecting with the jaw of the first demon. The second demon slammed into her an instant later, grabbing her around the throat and throwing her onto the hood next to Dean who was still struggling against his own adversary. The first demon reappeared clutching the demon knife.

“Time to die, bitch,” he growled at her raising the blade over his head. A fresh wave of screeching tires broke through the sounds of their fight and the crackling fire behind them. Frigid water rained down on them a second later, the demons holding River and Dean flailed and screamed in pain as the water soaked them. They clutched at their burning skin and staggered blindly away. A man’s voice blared over a bullhorn reciting a chant in a familiar ancient language. The demons stopped in their tracks as black smoke erupted instantly from their mouths and eyes disappearing into the night sky. 

Dean rolled over to River who slowly sat up and looked down at the dozen dead bodies littering the ground. “You alright?” he asked. 

She nodded and slid off the hood of the car. “Sam?” she yelled. They had lost track of him during the melee and she frantically scanned the darkness for him. 

“I’m here!” His muffled voice came from beneath a pile of bodies. Before she and Dean could get to him, three men appeared from the darkness and began pulling the corpses off of Sam and helped the big man to his feet.

“Th-thank you,” Sam said unsurely to the men. 

“No need to thank us. You three be careful out here.” The blond man at the front of the group told him as River and Dean came to Sam’s side.

“Hey, Hoss wait a minute!” River yelled after the men. “What the hell?”

“Look, miss. I hate to break it to you but those were demons and this is the Apocalypse. So take route 3 back to the highway and buckle up. Things are gonna get pretty bumpy from here on out.“ The man said pointing to the darkness beyond the burning big rig. He and his two companions turned back towards the classic bright red fire truck behind them. 

River gave Sam and Dean an incredulous look. “That was Enochian you were speaking.” She said. The men turned back around. “I’ve never heard an exorcism that can blast those black eyed sons of bitches out so fast. Have you two?” She asked Sam and Dean. The brothers hook their heads. “And the holy water in the fire truck, that was fucking brilliant. You saved our asses. Who the Hell are you guys?” 

The men shared a quick look. “Sacrament Lutheran Militia….you know about Demons?” The youngest person in the group asked, River guessed he was barely over seventeen. The hunters nodded.

“We’re hunters…we deal with this kind of stuff a lot more than we’d like to.” Dean answered, “We were over in Pray checking on some omens. We got overrun... Look, We’re on the same team.” The leader shuffled his feet and glanced back at his truck. Dean continued, “ We know what’s it like out here but my brothers hurt.” He pointed to Sam’s duct tape wrapped arm. “We just need somewhere safe we can hole up and lick our wounds. Maybe share some intel. Please.” He added. 

“Prove it. Show us what you know,” The man in the back of the group piped up. The hunters limped back to Baby followed by the strangers. 

Dean unlocked the trunk revealing the devils trap and Sigils that were painted on the interior along with their vast armory of weapons and gear. The de facto leader of the group nodded, “I’m Rob. This is my best friend Paul and my son Dylan.” The group shook hands. “Follow us back to town. I think there’s someone you should meet.” The militia members climbed back into their fire truck as Dean started the Impala. 

“Shirt off, Samsquatch.” River ordered as Dean followed the fire truck down a nearly hidden dirt road. Sam complied as River put her glasses on and dug through their first aid kit for a needle and floss. She handed him her phone and aimed the light at the wound in his shoulder. “All I got left is hot pink and mint. What do you prefer?” She asked holding the plastic containers of floss out for him.

“Surprise me,” Sam muttered. 

“Hot pink it is,” River said smiling. “First stitch on three. 1,2-“ She dug the needle into his arm and Sam hissed in pain. “Who the hell are those guys? And that fucking spell...I’ve never heard anything like it.” She asked adjusting the light in Sam’s hand to better see the gash in his arm.

“We should call Cas.” Sam said then cursed under his breath as the needle bit into his skin again. 

River finished the stitches, wrapped his arm in clean bandages and told him, “Now show a little self respect and get your clothes back on.” The fire truck stopped in front of them. They had arrived at a covered bridge.The entrance blocked on either side by cement barriers covered in barbed wire. Men and women stood at the barriers. Rob had a quick conversation with the guards and pointed back at the Impala. “This a trap. They’re gonna light us up.” River said quietly.

“They aren’t gonna shoot us...I don’t think they’re gonna shoot us.” Dean muttered as he edged the car to the beckoning guard. “Just be cool.” The guards surrounded the Impala and knocked on the windows.

“No sudden movements. Smile but don’t be a weirdo,” River whispered to herself rolling down her window. The hunters found themselves each starting down that barrel of a pistol. The guards pulled their triggers and the hunters flinched as cold water splashed into their faces.”Holy water loaded squirt guns?” River asked her guard.

“Yep. Gotta check everyone. You’re ok to continue on through,” the guard told them. Dean continued through the barriers and crossed into the covered bridge. The headlights illuminated devils traps and sigils covering the interior of the bridge. They continued through the dark town until they reached another church. The outside of the building again protected with cement barriers, barbed wire, devil traps and guards every few feet. 

Rob, Paul and Dylan led the Hunters into the church. “Ya’ll stand in the back and be quiet. Looks like they’re just about to take their vows.” Rob whispered holding the church door open and ushering them inside. Dylan and Rob broke off from the group and quickly found a spot next to a red haired woman sitting on a pew in the middle of the church. She gave them both a tight hug before they sat down. The church was packed with people, not wearing their Sunday finest but instead denim, sturdy boots, thick jackets and hunting rifles. Six people, three couples River noted, stood at the front of the church with the minister. A ten-foot high wood cross standing proudly in front of a stained glass window depicting a very effeminate blonde Angel holding a golden trumpet made up the ornate centerpiece of the otherwise quaint, homey small town church.

River elbowed Sam and pointed at the window whispering, “Dude that’s supposed to be Gabriel. He looks kind of like Meryl Streep...I don’t know if he would be pissed or think that’s awesome.” 

“Who thought the Apocalypse could be so romantic?” The minister said to his congregation. His eyes were soft and inviting, he casually ran them over the three strangers standing at the back. “None of us really know how much longer we have…but marriage, family, love is a blessing. Living in the light of the lord as he commands us, following his commandments and his word will never lead you astray. Ephesians 4:2 says-”

“No fucking way…” River muttered. Several people turned around and gave her a disgruntled look. “It’s a wedding.” She told the clueless brothers. Comprehension lit up their faces followed almost immediately by confusion. Why the hell would people be rushing to get married during the end of the world? The minister proclaimed the couples in front of him joined in holy matrimony and the church erupted into claps and whistles as the newly weds kissed.

The couples walked out of the church to more applause and a shower of flower petals. Paul shook his head and took a deep drink from a flask he pulled from the inside of his jacket. “Eighth one this week. Nothin says true love like a shotgun wedding at the end of the world.” He muttered before walking away into the darkness. Dean looked down at River who stood next to him, black beanie pulled down low over her ears, nervously twisting the ring Cas had given her around her finger watching as the young couples drove away.

“We should ask if they can squeeze us in. Midnight special…” Dean said.

She looked away from the procession of well-wishers and into his green eyes. “Squeeze us into what?”

Dean looked down at his scuffed boots. “You know..end of the world.” He said clearing his throat nervously and running his fingers along his jaw. 

River sighed, “Its late. I’m tired. I think I have a minor concussion. Again… I have no fucking idea what you’re mumbling about it.”

“Rob tells me you three know hunt Demons,” The Pastor said coming to stand next to Sam.

Sam nodded, “Yes, sir.” Dean and River smiled. River nudged Dean and nodded at the pistol strapped to the pastors thigh. Dean had a nasty case of deja vu, remembering his future self and the holster he had around his own leg. 

“You missed a few,” he said reaching his hand out to shake each of theirs in turn. “I’m Pastor Walt Gideon. Welcome to Blue Sky. If you’re not too tired, it’s shift change down stairs and I’d like to show you around.” Pastor Gideon led them back into the church. They walked past rows of pews and down a narrow stairway tucked behind the transept. The door at the bottom of the stairs opened and a young girl came bounding up, followed closely by two people who must have been her parents. “Hey Maddie! How’s the Lords work coming?” Walt asked when the little girl stopped and threw her arms around his midsection.

“Great Pastor Walt! I won the shell contest!” Maddie said happily.

“That’s your third win this week!” He said giving the young girl a high five. “You go home now and get some rest,” Walt told her. He clapped her mother and father on their shoulders as they passed on the narrow stairs.

“Shell contest?” Sam asked as they entered the storm shelter turned war room. They ran into a flurry of activity, even though at this time it was close to midnight. Groups of people worked diligently at different stations. They passed a table where several people were filling water bottles, squirt guns and pesticide sprayers with holy water. Another table had three children packing salt into bullet shells while a fourth was keeping tally on an whiteboard.

“Are those twelve years olds packing salt rounds?” Dean asked.

Gideon nodded, “The shell contest. Leah came up with it to keep even the younger ones involved. Everyone here pitches in.”

“A town full of hunters? I don’t know if we should run or buy a condo,” Dean said shaking his head.

“How do you know about all this? Salt, holy water, Enochian?” River asked looking around the crowded room. 

Walt smiled, “Angels are watching over us.”

River let out a sharp laugh before throwing her hand over her mouth, “Holy shit, you’re fucking serious.”

“The demons came. They were slaughtering us. We had to fight back-“ The Pastor told them.

“So why not call the National Guard?” Sam asked.

Walt answered, “We were told not to.”

“By who?” River demanded a steady knot of dread growing her belly that Gideon was going to tell them it was an Angel named Zachariah.

“Come on, Padre. You know we’re on the level. You gotta share your intel with us,” Dean told him. “We’re out there scramblin’ for scraps and you got over a hundred people here locked and loaded.”

Gideon’s mouth drew into a thin line, he shook his head slightly still debating whether to let the strangers in on all of the towns secrets, “Look, I’m sorry but I can’t discuss it with you.’

“It’s alright dad.” A young woman appeared at Gideon’s side. She lay a small, pale hand on his arm. Her long brown hair framed a delicate face, bright caramel eyes and a gentle smile. She was the stereotypical Sunday school teacher, demure and chaste; skirt two inches past her knees, high buttoned collar shirt and a sweater to hide any remaining feminine curves. “This is Sam and Dean Winchester. The Angels told me about them.”

“Leah, I don’t-“ Gideon began.

Leah stepped in front of her father, “They’re safe Daddy. And you’re safe here.” She said looking at the brothers. “The Angels can’t see you because of the marks on your ribs.” 

River let out a long breath, “So the Angels told you about them and taught you that Exorcism spell?”

Leah smiled, “Yes, among other things. They tell me where the Demons are going to be, before it happens, how to fight back.” 

Pastor Gideon smiled putting his arm around her thin shoulders, “Leah’s never been wrong. Not once since the visions started.” 

“Visions?” River nodded, “Let me you guess, you get headaches, maybe see bright flashes of light before a vision comes to you.” 

Lead nodded, “Yes. How did you know?”

River looked up to Dean and Sam, her eyebrows disappearing under her beanie. “Because you aren’t the first Prophet we’ve run into.” Dean answered.

“When did the visions start?” Sam asked Leah.

“A little over a week ago,” she answered looking up at her father. “I saw a lake of blood. Men with black eyes. I saw the church in Pray with blood on the walls- I told my father and he went to check...he tried to warn Pastor Jay about what was coming but it was too late.”

“I barely made it back to town... the demons there were so many of them.” Pastor Gideon finished. 

River let out a long breath, “Why? Why Pray? What happened there, did you see anything else?”

“It was a warning,” Leah said quietly. “The Angels were warning us what would happen if we didn’t heed Gods orders.”

“Gods orders? Where was God when an entire town was murdered? Sacrificed.” River said a little too loudly. Several people stopped their work to look at her. “We’ve seen it before. Something bad was risen in that town and who the fuck knows what it was or where it is now.” 

“It’s getting late,” Dean interjected before River’s temper ignited any further. “Padre you got a place In town where three weary travelers can get some shut eye?” The hunters left the church shortly after being directed to the towns small motel. “You maybe wanna check the blasphemy a little, Princess?”

“Excuse me?” River said. “I’m pissed. I think I have a right to be pissed. The Angels are having these people do their dirty work for them and threatening them with...” she raised her hands at a loss for words. “This god damn town thinks the Angels are on their side, Dean. It’s bullshit!”

“I’ll call Cas and see if he’s heard anything on Angel radio,” Sam offered.

“And I’ll get us a few drinks,” Dean said as they pulled into the parking lot the motel shared with a bar. It seemed like every person that hadn’t been a part of the mass wedding or was busy making demon proof weapons was packed into the small bar. River wound her way through the throng of people to a small table near a blaring jukebox while Dean patiently waited in line for beer. By the time he got to the front of the line he was surprised to see Paul behind the bar. “Hey man, is it always like this?” He asked as Paul slid three glasses of beer across the bar top to a waiting patron.

Paul shrugged, “No rest for the wicked I guess. Ever since we found out It’s the end of the world its like one long last call.” Dean nodded in understanding, doing what he did for a living he never knew when his last drink would be so enjoyed all of them. River watched as Sam found a quiet corner of the bar to try and call Castiel. He was less than surprised when the Angel didn’t answer so he left a voicemail with their location so he could fly in when he felt like it.   
The brothers eventually made their way back to the table River had commandeered for them to find she had several plates of hot, fried appetizers waiting. She contently noshed on a mozzarella stick and took a long sip of the beer Dean handed her. 

“You alright? “ Dean asked her after she quickly drank the rest of her beer.

River shook her head, “No. Another town gone. Wiped off the map. Innocent people, Dean. Children, all those little kids…” She trailed off closing her eyes against the images of the snarling black eyed kids that were imprinted on her memory. Sam joined them at the table tucking his phone back into pocket.

“Well if it makes you fell better all these people are going to die too. Everybody is going to die. Soon. Probably like in a month or two at tops.” Dean told her. “This place seems like as good as any to rent that cabin we talked about-“

Sam stared at his brother, “Dean, come on you don’t mean that. This is...we can’t give up.”

“I’m not sayin we give up. You wanna fight, I’ll keep fighting until the bloody end. But maybe Pam was right and we don’t gotta fight so hard. These people look like their down to keep fighting the good fight, who are we to stand in their way?”

“Well, on that light hearted note- I’m tired and I’d like to have sex before bed.” River said looking pointedly at Dean and tossing a few dollars on their table to cover the tip.

“Yes ma’am,” Dean said smiling. They made their way through the crowd and back outside into the crisp night air. The Green Valley motel office was a short walk across the parking lot after the hunters stopped at the car to grab their duffle bags. Sam made it a point to request a room at the opposite end the building from Dean and River. 

The older woman behind the desk begrudgingly handed over the keys to the rooms but not before handing out some unrequested words of wisdom.“The lord sees what you do behind closed doors.” She said looking over her bifocals at Dean and River. Sam had the good sense to be embarrassed for them and looked down at his feet.

“Guess we’ll have to put a good show on for him then.” River told her smiling sweetly.

The hunters woke early the next morning to the sound of church bells. Dean and River dressed quickly and met Sam outside. The streets were crowded with people all flocking towards the church. When they arrived it was standing room only so they crammed into a space at the back. River standing on her toes trying to see over the heads of the people in front of her. Pastor Gideon stood at the front of the church nervously rubbing his hands together. Leah paced behind him one hand grasping the gold cross around her neck. “Thank you for all coming so quickly,” the Pastor began. The church instantly fell silent waiting for Gideon to continue. “Leah had a vision this morning. Five miles outside of town-“ Leah stepped forward and whispered something in her fathers ear. “Six, six miles outside of town is an empty house. There are fifteen to twenty demons hiding there, planning on attacking the town later tonight . We need to strike first. Who will join me?” He asked looking over his congregation. Paul, Rob, his wife and son Dylan raised their hands as did Dean.

“You can count the three of us in Padre,” Dean told him. 

After another prayer the group set out towards the demons hideout. Dean, Sam and River in the Impala. Gideon and his group in the towns firetruck. 

The house was dark and quiet with boarded up windows on the first and second floor. “Rob, you, Catherine, Sam and Dean take the back. Paul, River, you’re with me we’ll go in through the front.” The group broke apart and quietly crept towards the house. River positioned herself in front of the door with Walt and Paul to her left, weapons out. She silently counted to three before kicking the door in. The lock easily broke away from the moldy wood, the door slamming into the wall as the three charged in. A second later another door was kicked in as the other group entered the house from the back. 

The demons stormed them appearing out of dark rooms and jumping over the banister from the second floor. One demon, possessing the body of someones grandma, landed on Rivers back crashing them both to the floor in a tangled, struggling mass of limbs and curses. River fought with the snarling demon that was trying to force its bony fingers into the spaces between her ribs, it’s false teeth clacking together near her ear as the demon promised to rip her heart out. River got an elbow free and drove it into the demons nose knocking its grip on her ribcage loose. She shoved the barrel of her shotgun into it’s chest and pulled the trigger. Grandma landed heavily on top of her, coughing up little puffs of black smoke. River forced the demon off of her and rolled out of the way. “Son of a bitch!” She yelled wiping at the trail of dark red blood the demon had smeared all over her Star Wars shirt, “I really liked that shirt, asshole!” She pumped two new shells into the shotgun and aimed at the demons head. The demon gave up and smoked out before she pulled the trigger. Dylan and Gideon started chanting the Enochian spell, instantly the demons closest to them began to shake and scream as they were forcefully exorcised. Thick clouds of black smoke exploded upwards, swirling through broken windows and out the chimney. Salt rounds, holy water and Sam’s knife quickly dispatched the remaining demons. 

“Sweetheart , I think you got something on you shirt.” Dean said pointing at the bloody mess that used to be her favorite shirt. 

She flipped him off and muttered , “Shaddup sugar lips.” The group walked back to their waiting cars, exhausted but also elated at the win. Even Sam was smiling. “You alright, Stringbean. There’s something wrong with your face. Do you have gas?” River waved her finger around his face.

“I’m just... this must be what it feels like,” He said.

“Feels like what?” Dean asked.

Sam pointed to the group in front of them, “Having back up.”

They made it back to the car and River used her spell to unlock the trunk. Catherine gasped in surprise causing River to look over her shoulder at the woman. “Relax, it’s basically a party trick.” She told her. In reality it had been a pretty complex spell to enchant the trunk so that only the three of them could unlock it. She dug around the contents searching for a spare shirt, finally finding a flannel button up that was suffice until they got back to their room. River peeled off the blood soaked Chewbacca shirt and tossed it aside. The low cut tank top she wore under her shirt revealed several of the tattoos on her back. 

Catherine made another disapproving click of her tongue, “The Lord says in Leviticus 19:28 ‘do not put tattoos on your skin’.”

River gave Dean a side ways glance as she buttoned up her shirt. He gave a indiscernible twitch of his head and mouthed, “Be nice.” 

“Leviticus…yeah thats a doozy of a book with all those rules and regulations. Don’t eat leftovers after the third day, men can’t shave, don’t plant two kinds of seeds in one garden, oh and ‘Do not wear clothing woven of two different kinds of material’. Pretty sure your mom jeans have spandex in them, Catherine.” River closed the trunk and smiled her. The other woman turned away from her and trod angrily back to the red fire truck. Gideon, Rob, and Paul followed her. Dylan stared after them for several seconds before running to his fathers side. They held a quick whispered conversation, Rob looked between his sons face and to the angry face of his wife before nodding at Dylan. Dylan turned back towards the Impala where the three hunters stood idly enjoying the momentary silence. Sam grabbed the green cooler from the backseat and started handing out beers.

“Do you guys mind if I hitch a ride back with you?” Dylan asked as the fire truck pulled away. 

“You gotta share the backseat with me,” River told him. “And teach me that Exorcism spell.”

“Yeah ok. You got it,” he answered.

Dean tossed a can of beer at the younger man making him smiled wider. Dylan caught it and popped the tab. “Don’t tell your mom.” Dean told him.

“Hey, how old are you?” River asked him. Dylan took a few steps away from her worried she would take the drink away once he told her he was underage.

“Sixte-hunph.” The boy was suddenly jerked down and yanked under the car. He let out a gurgled, wet scream an instant later. Sam dove to the ground and reached under the car, grabbing at a pair of ankles that shouldn’t have been there. He pulled the snarling, black eyed woman out from her hiding place. She had a jagged piece of broken glass grasped in one bloody hand. Sam stabbed her in the heart with his knife, orange shocks of light flashing behind her eyes and in her mouth. 

“NO! No, no, no, no, Dylan, Dylan! NO!” River’s anguished scream broke through the blood roaring in Sam’s ears. He jumped to his feet and ran around the back of the car. Dean and River sat on the ground cradling Dylan’s unmoving body. His neck had been slit ear to ear by the hiding demon, his eyes dim and unseeing, his blood soaking into River’s new shirt and jeans. Tears rolled down her face and landed on Dylan’s chest. Sam and Dean gently picked up the young mans body and laid him in the back seat. The drive back to the church was silent, punctuated only with Rivers quiet sobs. Rob and Catherine were waiting outside the church with Pastor Gideon and Leah when Dean drove up. Dylan’s parents looked expectantly at the car as the three hunters slid out of the car. Catherine paled , taking in Sam and Dean’s dark eyes and the tears that still ran down River’s face.

“There was….we didn’t. I’m sorry,” River choked out. Catherine pushed them out of the way and looked into the backseat where the body of her only child lay. The raw scream of pain that tore through the woman was terrifying and heart breaking. Rob appeared at her side and tried to pull her against his chest but she pushed him away.

“You!” She screamed turning towards River. River took a step back from the grieving woman. “This is your fault!” Catherine yelled. Her husband again tried to take her by the arm but she shook him off. “You flaunt your sins! Your blasphemy and immorality! You got my son killed!”

The earth dropped out from underneath River’s feet, she stumbled back reaching out for something to hold onto. “I didn’t…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry..” She stuttered looking between the grieving faces in front of her. Catherine continued to scream at her, voice breaking with each sob until Pastor Gideon was finally able to intervene.

“Catherine enough. Rob take her inside, Leah is waiting for you,” Gideon told her. Catherine shook her head violently. “We will take care of Dylan, he’s safe. Go inside.” He said firmly. They staggered away into the church, Catherine’s wails of sorrow echoing each step. “Dean, Sam help me with Dylan. We need get him ready for burial.” The brothers nodded and River stepped forward also.

Dean turned towards her and placed his hands on her shoulder, “I think you should go back to our room. Give them some time…”

“Dean, I didn’t….this isn’t my fault,” she said wiping the tears off her face.

“I know that, shit I know that sweetheart. Go back to the motel. Let us handle this-“ Dean said placing a kiss on her forehead. River stepped past him and continued down the street. Word was passed quickly though town about what had happened to Dylan, his wake was to be held at sunset and most of the town was expected to be there. 

 

After stripping off the clothes stained with Dylans blood and taking a scalding hot shower River sat on her bed flipping through the local TV channels. She was finally able to find a Spanish dubbed episode of Dr. Sexy, since the dialogue didn’t really matter she settled on that. The moments after dusk brought about another set of ringing church bells which River ignored in favor of her TV show. 

The church was filled to the brim with crying townspeople. Dylan lay in his handmade coffin in the middle of the church. Leah sat next to Catherine and Rob, her arms around the grieving the mother as Pastor Gideon started his sermon. Dean and Sam stood quietly against the back wall. “Dylan was a righteous young man who did his best to serve the Lord and walk in his light. Though he is gone from us, Rob, Catherine you will be reunited with him in Paradise. It has been promised to us.” Gideon told them. 

A strange choking, muttering sound broke over his sermon as Leah fell from her pew convulsing on the ground in front of Dylan’s coffin. “Leah!” Walt knelt by his daughter trying to protect her head from slamming into the ground. Leah’s convulsions stopped as suddenly they had started and she sat up shakily. 

“Oh daddy,” she cried into her hands. “Daddy, it’s Dylan he spoke to me.” Catherine let out a startled cry. Leah continued, “Dylan gave me a warning if we don’t follow the Angels commandments we will not be allowed into the kingdom of Heaven.” The congregation cried out as one, many demanding answers and guidance. The brothers shared a worried look as Leah tried to composed herself.

“No drinking, no gambling, no blasphemy, no profanity, no pre-marital sex…they basically just outlawed you and River,” Sam muttered as they walked out of the church. 

“Yeah, well when in Rome, “ Dean answered. “I’m going to go talk to Home Skillet about her visions. Why don’t you hit up Gideon and we’ll see if their stories jive.” Sam nodded and Dean made his way back inside the church to speak to Leah. He found her resting in her fathers study. “Leah, hey can we talk?” Dean gently asked after knocking on the door.

She sat up and nodded, "Yes of course." She straightened her skirt making sure her knees were covered and crossed her legs demurely as Dean sat next to her on the couch.

"I need to know what you know about Heaven, about what's coming." Dean asked.

"I know there is a big fight coming. And when we ,The Chosen, win and we will win; we will inherit the Kingdoms of heaven and earth." Leah told him.

"As long as you and everyone in this town follow directions and fall in line?" Dean said.

"It's not my place to question Gods plan," she answered.

"So we just follow blindly. Even if it means they're leading us right off a cliff?" Dean asked.

Leah tilted her head and gave Dean a sad, scrutinizing look, "It must be extremely difficult to be the vessel of Heaven and have no faith.”

Ch 56  
River was half through watching the doctor preform an emergency cesarian section during a Tsunami when the TV cut out. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered angrily getting up to turn the dial on the ancient television set finding nothing but static. Someone knocked loudly at the door and she clicked the TV off with an annoyed sigh. 

“We paid for our god damned rooms, lady. Its none of your god damn business who I fuck-“ River yelled.

The woman clutched at her gold cross and straightened her curved back, “I will not have you take the lords name in vain. If you and your ‘friends’” she sneered, “Want to continue staying at my motel you will heed the Lords commandments.” 

River noticed Dean and Sam walking up and spun towards them, “This crazy old bitty is trying to tell me we can’t stay in the same room because we aren’t married. Because the Angels have forbidden it! Along with a whole bunch of other shit.” 

Dean tucked his hands in his pocket and nodded, “Yeah ok. Gimme five minutes I’ll get my stuff and bunk with my brother.” River crossed her arms icily over her chest as the woman and her metal walker made their slow trek back to the motel office. “Riv-“

“I want out of this town,” River cut him off.

“Tomorrow, ok? We’ll leave tomorrow. But for tonight and until we pass the city limits we follow their rules-“

“This is bullshit Dean. The TV is out, the cellphones are out and now this…this is some Jonestown bullshit.” River muttered angrily. 

Dean grabbed his duffle bag and stopped in the doorway where Sam was waiting, “Come get a drink with us before Paul closes shop.” 

River shook her head, “I’m going to bed. You guys better be ready to blow this popsicle stand at sun up.” 

Paul’s was empty. He stood behind the bar polishing clean glasses, the bright neon ‘OPEN’ sign flashing defiantly in the window. “You run out of beer?” Dean asked as he and his brother entered the silent bar.

Paul scoffed, “Hardly. Guess everyones taking Leah’s latest revelations pretty seriously.”

“Except you?” Sam asked him. 

Paul nodded, “I’ve never prayed before in my life. I’m not a believer in spite of what I’ve seen lately. If I go to hell-well I’m going with my beliefs or lack there of firmly in place.”

“Well, I’ll drink to that,” Dean told him smiling. 

Back at the church Leah was given another frightening message . The young woman fell to her knees screaming and begging for mercy as people gathered around her. “Oh god! Oh god, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I told them!” She screamed clutching at her face.

“Leah, honey what is it?” Walt asked his daughter.

Leah opened her tear filled eyes, “Daddy the Angels are screaming! They’re screaming at me. They are so mad.”

“Why?” Catherine asked.

“They say there are some in town not listening. Not following their commandments. We must make sure everyone is obeying or they will abandon us like they did Pray. We will be cut off from Heaven.” Leah sobbed. “We have until dawn tomorrow…then we will all face our final judgment.”

Catherine took Leah’s hand, “Who is it? Did they tell you who is disobeying?” 

Leah nodded, “Yes. They gave me their names and instructions on how to deal with them.”

“Tell us,” someone in the crowd yelled. They pressed in tighter around Leah and Walt.

“Listen to me, we have to remain calm.” Gideon said over the flurry of activity. “Leah stop this. Someone is going to get hurt.” He said leading her away from the frightened people.

Leah looked up at her father, “Daddy get your hands off of me. Or your name will be on that list.” Walt let go of his daughter and stepped away. Something had changed in his little girl, her eyes were cold and calculating. He knew with a few words from her his church would turn on him.  
Leah recited the names and locations she had received in her latest vision. The frenzied crowd grabbed weapons, rope and containers of gasoline. 

The first place the mob hit was the small tattoo shop at the edge of town. Peter, the owner, had lived in Blue Sky his whole life only leaving for a short stint to complete his apprenticeship at a big shop in Billings. Bricks were thrown through the plate glass window, followed by a molotov cocktail. Peter and his cat barely made it down the fire escape and into his car before the flames engulfed the entire building. They didn’t get away though. A number of Peter’s neighbors and friends pulled him from the car and beat him until he was unconscious. His cat hid under the front seat meowing despondently as Peter was carried away into the darkness. 

Paul was walking Sam and Dean to the door ready to close the bar early and head home when Catherine and several others charged in. “Cathy, what’s this about?” Paul asked. 

Catherine cocked her head, reread the scribbled list she clutched in her hand and looked at the brothers, “You two can go.”

“No, I think we’ll stay,” Dean told her. 

She gave them a tight lipped sneer before turning her cold eyes back to Paul. “ Paul you were warned. The Angels gave us such simple rules to follow. And yet here you are,” she said pulling a gun out her jacket. Dean and Sam stepped forward but were shoved back into the wall by several men each holding rifles. 

Paul raised his hands, “Cathy, calm down. Ok, we are friends. I was the Best Man at your wedding. I was at Dylan’s christening.”

“That was before!” Catherine yelled, the gun in her hands shook. “You’re disobeying! You are a sinner and you are not going to keep me from my son!” She squeezed the trigger and Paul let out a pained grunt, his hands going disbelieving to the bullet hole in his chest. 

“NO!” Sam and Dean yelled in unison. But it was too late. Paul sunk to his knees then slumped forward dead. Catherine crossed his name off the list and left the bar without a glance back at her dead friend. The men release the brothers and they stood still for several long seconds. 

River sighed and turned over on the lumpy mattress. She couldn’t get comfortable, she was cold and there was too much on her mind to sleep so she got out of bed and tried the TV again. She clicked the knob through channels of static. “God damn it,” she muttered angrily.

“Taking my fathers name in vain used to be a stone-able offense,” Castile’s gravelly voice emanated from the darkness behind her. 

“God damn it!” River yelled louder spinning around to face the Angel. Cas stumbled out of the shadows towards her. “Cas, what the shit dude? Can’t you return a fucking phone call.”

Cas hiccuped, closed his eyes and swayed slightly on his feet, “I don’t answer to you River McGregor.”

“Yeah, I got it Seraphim first class Captain Smitey McSmiterson…” Castiel scoffed, his lips blowing out making a ‘pfft’ noise. “What the hell is wrong with you?” River asked him as he sat heavily on her bed.

He shrugged, “I found a liquor store.”

“And?” River asked.

“And I drank it.” He answered and laughed drunkly. 

River ran her fingers through her hair pushing it away from her face, “Are you saying your drunk?”

“No,” he answered opening one blue eye and trying to focus on her. “Yes…I like alcohol. I think that’s one of the very best things you humans have ever come up...the fermenting of various grains and fruit...” 

River let out a long breath and pinched the bridge of her nose whispering, “Give me a break….” She sat down next to him and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “Cas, buddy come on I think you should take a nap or something.”

“I don’t sleep. I’m still technically an Angel.” He said digging around in the pockets of his trench coats until he found the bottle of blueberry vodka he’d brought with him. He unscrewed the cap and drained the bottle in several long gulps. River rolled her eyes as Cas smacked his lips with the last drop of alcohol. “That was very good,” he murmured into the empty bottle.

“Hey, Cas before you get anymore entertaining, the folks here know a real spiffy Enochian spell that exorcises demons like that.” She snapped her fingers in his face. “How come you never bothered to teach it to us.”

Cas finally slumped backwards onto the bed and slurred, “What shpell?”

Rivers eyebrows drew together as she tried to remember the wording since Dylan never got to teach it to her properly and began to recite the unfamiliar words. Cas began giggling causing River’s voice to waiver self consciously. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s a fake…”

River shook her head, “Cas I’ve seen it work.”

“Do you know what it means?” He asked peeking at her through half closed lids.

“Something about a sheep?” She answered. 

“Your Enochian is terrible,” he laughed again.”It means: You breed with the mouth of a goat.” River stared at him becoming more annoyed by the second. “It’s funnier in Enochian.” Cas told her. “ Who taught you that?”

“Leah Gideon, she said she learned it form the Angels, she’s a prophet-“ River said. 

Cas sat up suddenly, “She is not a prophet.” 

“Yeah, she is Cas. She’s got the visions and the Bat phone to Heaven.”

Castiel ran his hands along his jaw, “I have the name of every Prophet that ever was and ever will be burned into my very being and Leah Gideon is not a Prophet…what the hell is going on in this town?” The Angel snapped his wings and disappeared from the room. 

“Son of a bitch,” River muttered as she pulled her jeans and boots back on. Screw waiting until morning to get the hell out of this town. She pulled on her jacket and opened the door. “Leah?” River took a startled step back. Leah Gideon stood in front of the door with her hand raised ready to knock. She tilted her head and gave River a saccharine smile. It was the last thing River saw before the butt of a rifle crashed into the side of her face. 

Dean and Sam walked slowly away from the bar trying not to garner anymore undue attention. Catherine and her group of wild eyed followers carried Paul’s body to the back of a truck and drove away. “What the hell are we supposed to do here, Dean? How do we fix this?” Sam asked quietly as a wood paneled station wagon peeled out of the dual parking lot following Catherine’s truck, tires screeching in its wake. 

“There isn’t gonna be any fixing this town,” Dean said shaking his head and looking toward the motel office hoping that Mrs. Jones and her gold cross had retired for the evening. She had not. The old woman stood at the window staring at him and his brother. “God damn it…I mean evenin’ Padre,” Dean said as Pastor Gideon hurried towards them. He was pale and covered in sweat.

“I think something terrible is about to happen,” he started. 

Dean laughed, “Yeah I hate to break it to you but shits already happening. Catherine just shot Paul. Just shot him dead. The Angels told her he was a sinner.”

“Oh god,” Walt groaned, he ran a shaking hand along his mouth. “Leah had a vision, the Angels gave her a final set of warnings and instructions. They told her our final judgment is tomorrow at dawn.” Sam opened their motel room and waived the Pastor inside. Castiel stood inside the room clutching a large leather bound book and finishing a bottle of Rosé. 

“Well, look who decided to join the party.” Dean grunted walking to the sink in the kitchenette so he could put on a pot of coffee. “Where the hell have you been?”

Cas dropped the bottle of wine on the carpet and watched as it rolled under one of the beds, “On a bender.”

“Did you say on a bender?” Sam asked. Castiel stumbled to the couch and sat down, tossing the heavy book unceremoniously onto the coffee table.

“I’m sorry but who is this?” Pastor Walt asked looking down at Castiel who appeared to have drifted off for a momentary nap.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, “That’s Cas. Castiel. He’s an Angel.” Walt looked to Sam for confirmation who nodded giving him a ‘it’s true’ look. 

“An Angel? Are you the one speaking to my daughter?” Walt asked kneeling before Castiel reverently.

Cas roused himself, “That is not your daughter. Your daughter is dead, buried in a shallow grave a few hundred paces behind your church.”

“Wh-what? No, my daughter has been chosen by God-“ Walt said disbelieving. 

The Angel shook his head, “No. She’s the Whore.”

“Hey, Cas. Jesus Christ, learn some bedside manner,” Dean harped. Castiel lurched forward and flipped through the pages of the book in front of him.

“The Whore of Babylon,” Castiel clarified tapping his finger on the page. “She is a creature that rises when Satan walks the Earth. She is able to take human form, read and manipulate minds, she has control over lesser demons. Her duty is to damn as many souls to hell as possible.”

“This just keeps getting better,” Dean murmured. “How do we kill it?” 

Castiel once again searched through the folds of his jacket. “With this,” he retrieved an ash-grey wooden stake and placed it on top of the book. “This is made from a Babylonian Cypress tree. It must wielded by a true servant of God…so that means your out.” Cas added pointing at Dean. “I am Fallen, my father has forsaken me. Sam of course is an abomination.” Sam huffed loudly. “River…well that goes with out saying.”

“Pastor Gideon, he’s the Holiest one out of all of us. He can do it,” Dean volunteered. “You up to it, Padre?”

“Will it save my town?” He asked. 

Cas gave him an uncertain shrug, “It depends on what your definition of saved is. The Whore is the harbinger of the Final Days. She delivers souls to Hell to boost Lucifers power in the coming fight against Michael. Your town will most likely still die just maybe not tonight  
…”

“Cas that’s not helping,” Sam told him. 

“I’ll go wake River up.” Dean said leaving the room. Sam got up and poured Cas a cup of black coffee. The Angle grimaced at it setting it down untouched on the coffee table next to the book and cypress stake. Dean returned a minute later, his eyes glinting with fear. “She’s not in her room.”

Something cold splashed onto River’s face making her jerk awake. The acrid stench of gasoline burned her nose and eyes causing her to cough and splutter. “God damn it!” she yelled. She tried to raise her arms to wipe the stinging fuel out of her eyes but quickly realized they were tied behind her. She whipped her head to the side trying to figure out what she was tied to but her eyes couldn’t focus around the stinging fumes and liquid dripping down her hair and cheeks and soaking into her t-shirt. A blurry shape appeared in front of her as she tried to blink the caustic liquid out of her eyes. The shape reached out and struck her across the mouth.

“Even now, when your judgment is upon you you blaspheme in the house of the Lord,” Catherine hissed. The fresh set of tears helped wash the gasoline out of River’s eyes. 

“What the fuck- what the fuck is this?” River yelled at her. The bridge of her nose and cheek throbbed where she’d been hit. Catherine stepped back, making room for Leah who bent down to look at her. “Leah, what the hell is this?”

Leah blinked revealing pure red pupils. River shrank back banging her head off the base of the heavy wooden cross she had been tied to. “No.“ She groaned, not Leah the Pastors daughter, the Sunday school teacher, the beacon of hope in this little town. 

“This is judgment,” Leah purred, blinking again hiding her true eyes. She stood and faced the congregants gathered around her. “We will rise up out of the ashes of these sinners, born anew. Such wondrous things await you.” A choirs of ‘Amens’ and ‘Praise God’ sprang out from the crowd.

River got her feet under her and slid up the length of the cross until she was standing. She jerked her body forward against the ropes and the cross shook gently on its heavy base. “NO! No, she’s evil. You can’t listen to her!” She screamed at the gathered people. A man stepped out of the crowd and slammed the butt of his rifle into River’s midsection. She let out a surprised ‘oomph’ and sagged against the ropes.

“You know what to do,” Lead told them. A few dozen people were forced out of the crowd, screaming men and women, crying children, an old man barely able to walk, and led at gunpoint into a small room behind the altar. Men carrying red containers of gasoline followed, splashing the door once it was locked and pouring a trail back towards the aisles of wood pews. 

River straightened her back against the aching in her ribs as she fought harder against the ropes. “You have to stop this! You can’t burn us!” she screamed. The church doors were thrown open and Castiel stumbled in, hand outstretched. Several people charged him and were either thrown aside or crumpled at his feet as he rendered them unconscious. Sam, Dean and Walt Gideon followed him in. Sam and Dean wielding guns they hopefully would not have to use and Gideon carrying a very large, very pointy piece of wood.

“You’re not gonna stop me from being with my son!” Catherine screamed over the fight, igniting a book of matches and flinging it onto the gasoline soaked carpet in front of River. The flames erupted instantly and drifted along the oily trail headed towards River and the storage closet behind her. Dean looked down the aisle and saw her straining against the ropes that bound her.

“Leah’s a fucking demon!” She yelled at him tearing her eyes away from the red heat that was getting ever closer. A man jumped at Dean and the two began to scuffle, slamming into a wall, crashing into pews and finally into Sam who knocked the other guy out with a well placed left hook.

He yelled back, “She’s the Whore!” 

Despite her current situation River couldn’t help but laugh, “Tell me what you really think, D.” 

Another man ran at Dean and he shoved the man away, “The Whore of Babylon!” He clarified.

“I don’t know what the fuck that is,” River screamed, “Just go kill the bitch!”

Leah ran past the townspeople towards the stairway to the basement. Castiel jumped in front of her but she swatted him away like a gnat. He crashed into the back row of pews and didn’t reappear. Catherine stood in shock at Leah’s sudden show of strength. She looked at her friends limping out of the church and the fire behind her that she had lit. The fire that was on its way to devouring those she had helped round up and imprison. “Oh god what have I done,” she murmured before running out of the church. 

Walt Gideon made his cautious way through the throng of broken pews and curls of black smoke following Leah’s path downstairs. River renewed her struggle with her binds, throwing herself back against the cross. It wobbled slightly but remained standing. “This is gonna fucking hurt,” she muttered. She took a deep breath leaning forward as far as she could without pulling the cross down on top of her before slamming backwards. The base of the cross let out a loud screeching crack and she felt her feet leave the floor as the cross tipped over. She landed painfully on the outer part of her right hand and let out a long hiss of pain before getting her feet planted firmly on the ground and shimmying herself down towards the broken base just as the flames started nipping at her boots.

“River!” Sam’s voice boomed over the flames. 

She made it to the end of the cross and rolled away from the fire, her hands still tied behind her back. “Need some help with this rope,” she yelled struggling to her feet. Rob appeared in front of her with a knife clutched in his hand. “Rob don’t...you don’t need to do this. There’s little kids in there. Are you really gonna let them burn to death?” River asked, taking a step away from him and a step closer to the flames that continued their march towards the locked door where dozens of innocent people were trapped and screaming for help. 

Rob grabbed her by the shoulder and River stiffened expecting the edge of the knife. Instead he reached behind her and cut through the rope around her wrists. “I’m not gonna let anymore of my friends die,” he told her. 

River nodded, “Ok. We’ve got to put the fire out before it eats through the floor or the roof. And we’ve got to get them out before they get extra crispy.” Her eyes scanned quickly for something to put out the fire. She settled on a long ornately embroidered drape hanging along the far wall behind the altar. Rive ran towards it, yelling at Rob to help her. She jumped up and grabbed an armful of the fabric, tearing it away from the wall were it fluttered serenely to the ground. When she looked up, Rob was nowhere to be found. She tossed the drape on the flames closest to the storage closet trying to smother the fire so she could get to the door. With the fire out of her way she moved up to the solid wood door finding a large padlock resolutely locking the door closed. River heard the people inside begging for help and children crying inconsolably. “I’m coming!” she screamed. The flames behind her continued to hungrily consume the floor and the pews. She found a discarded shotgun near the back of the church, she also found Castiel getting unsteadily to his feet and lurching towards the stairs. “Casie I could use a fucking hand over here!” she yelled at the Angel.

“The Whore must be destroyed,” he growled back as he disappeared down the stairs.

River cursed angrily and wiped gasoline scented sweat out of her eyes as she ran back to the storage closet and banged on the hot door, “Get back and get down!” She shot the first round at the padlock and the second at the doorknob before kicking in the door. The people inside looked up at her through thick black smoke. “Come on! I’ll get you out of here!” Except she didn’t know how she was going to get them out, the fire was now blocking the aisle to the front door. “No! Fuck!” she screamed. 

Then, like a miracle, a torrent of water rained down on them extinguishing the flames. When the smoke cleared Rob and Catherine stood in the doorway of the church manning the hose from their holy-water loaded fire truck. “Go! Get out! Run!” River said herding the frightened people out of the church. An inhuman roar rocked through the church, the stained glass window depicting Gabriel exploded in a shower of rainbow colored glass. “Get them out of here! Away from the church, NOW!” River yelled at Rob and Catherine then turned and ran towards the stairs that the others had disappeared down. 

“Gideon, now!” Sam yelled. River jumped down the remaining stairs and skidded into the room the town had transformed into their staging area. Castiel had his arms locked around Leah but even as diminutive as she was the Angel was struggling to hold her still. She opened her mouth and screamed in rage again then began chanting in a guttural demonic language. Cas grunted, his face contorting in pain, his arms released Leah and he fell to the ground clutching at his chest. Gideon charged his daughter, the stake raised high over his head. Leah stopped her chanting and laughed, flicking her hand and sending the Pastor slamming into a shelf full of canned foods. The stake slid across the floor out of anyones reach. River slammed fresh shells into the shotgun and fired into Leah’s back riddling her pastel pink sweater with rock salt. She turned to River, her ruby red eyes shining malevolently. Leah barely nodded her chin and sent River flying back towards the staircase. Dean and Sam charged towards her while her attention was on River but the Whore was faster. She waived her hands sending the brothers flying to opposite ends of the room. Leah stalked quickly towards Dean who was slowly dragging himself across the floor, fingers outstretched towards the wooden stake Gideon had dropped.

Leah smirked down at Dean, “What do you think you’re going to do with that, huh?” She flipped him easily onto his back and straddled his chest. “Like you’re a servant of Heaven. You?” Leah shook her head in disbelief. “You’re pathetic, self-hating and faithless. You are the reason my team is going to win.” Dean’s fingers stretched towards the stake even as Leah’s words echoed in his head. Not for the first time he wondered if he had some sort of invisible thought bubble that followed him around that only Demons and Angels could see. Leah’s fingers wrapped around his throat as she whispered, “It’s the end of the world and you’re just gonna sit back and watch it happen.”

“Hey, She-Bitch!” River yelled. Leah tore her eyes away from Dean and looked up into the barrel of River’s shotgun. River puckered her lips and blew her a kiss before squeezing the trigger. Rock salt obliterated most of Leah’s petite mouth and pixie like nose. Dean grabbed the stake and drove it through her heart. He pushed the creature off of him using all his strength to drive the stake further into her chest. Her hands weakly grabbing at the stake, her red eyes staring up confused at the man leaning over her. 

Dean glared down at her and spat, “Don’t be so sure, Whore.” The Whore of Babylon twitched and convulsed, the creature inside shifting and disfiguring the Leah-disguise it had been hiding behind. Leah’s face dissolved like melting wax, the flesh dripping grotesquely onto the floor at Dean’s feet. River grabbed Dean’s arm and yanked him away from Leah’s body as it gave a final shudder before erupting into flames.

“I don’t understand,” a small, frightened voice echoed behind them. River turned to see Catherine and Rob huddled together near the door. “Are we going to Paradise now?” Catherine asked looking between her husband and Walt, who was being helped to his feet by Sam. Castiel still lay on the floor looking very pale and unable to stand on his own. 

“Pretty sure you’re headed in a different direction.” Dean told her as he walked towards Cas. He and River helped pull the Angel to his feet and together they walked him up the stairs and out of the church. River still reeked of gasoline and now that she had a second to take a breath she realized her pinky finger was sticking out at an odd angle. 

After the five of them piled into the Impala, Sam turned to his brother and asked, “How did you do that?”

“What?” Dean asked not taking his eyes off the road as they made the short drive back to the motel.

“Only a true servant of Heaven could’ve killed the Whore,” Sam said. 

River leaned forward from the back seat where she sat between Castiel, who was drifting in and out of consciousness, and Pastor Gideon, who was staring silently out the window. She had not yet decided which one she was more worried about. “Mind explaining what the hell you guys are talking about?”

“The Whore of Babylon. A trailblazer for the End Times. That thing that only a true servant of Heaven is supposed to be able to gank…That thing back there that Dean just killed…” Sam said keeping his eyes on his brother.

“I saw an opening and I took it,” Dean finally said. It had truly been as simple as that. She was a monster, he killed monsters. He had to at least try to end the bitch. He was just as surprised as any of them when it had actually worked. Maybe it was her words, accusing him of being the reason the world was going to die or again so clearly seeing past his devil-may-care facade. 

River placed her hand on his shoulder, “Do we have to worry about you doing something stupid ?”

“What kind of stupid?” Dean asked.

“Michael-stupid,” Sam told him. 

Dean rolled his eyes at them. “Will you two give me a break?” He looked over his shoulder at River, “You need a shower Sweetheart. I’m getting a contact high off of you.” He said pulling the Impala back into the motels parking lot. Sam led Pastor Gideon out of the car. The older man walked with jerky mechanical steps his glassy eyes open and unseeing.

“He’s in shock,” River said quietly to Sam as she helped Dean drag Cas into their room. Cas mumbled in Enochian, his face still pale and sweaty. “ I know Casie. I love you too. You need to rest, ok, because if you die we are royally fucked. So don’t die again...” River told the Angel. She ran her hands though his damp hair pushing it away from his face. His blue eyes fluttered closed as he lost consciousness again. 

River stood up and pulled her gas stained flannel shirt off tossing it aside. “Lemme see your face,” Dean said standing in front of her. She turned her face so could inspect the swelling on her cheek and the bridge of her nose. His fingers ghosted over the bruises and she grimaced. “We need to ice that.” 

“I will, after I check out the Padre.” She told him. 

“And your finger?” Dean asked taking her hand in his. Her pinky was still bent and stiff. His green eyes narrowed scrutinizing the rope burn and bruises around her wrists.

“It can wait,” she told him.

His eyebrows narrowed, “I’m going to count to three...” He said wrapping his hand her little finger.

“No you’re not,” she mumbled. The corner of his mouth twitched as he popped her finger back into place. “Son of a bitch,” River said stamping her foot.

Dean kissed the bruise on her cheek, “ Go fix Gideon.”

River stepped past him, rubbing her sore finger and moved onto Gideon who sat unmoving in the chair Sam had deposited him. The tall hunter leaned over the Pastor applying a bandage to a gash in his eyebrow. Dean paced the room watching Sam and River work. 

“My daughter is dead,” Walt croaked out. 

River nodded kneeling in front of him, there was a wet blood stain on the sleeve of his shirt and she gingerly rolled it up to inspect the wound. “Yes, She is. But...that thing back there that wasn’t your daughter.” 

“What’s going to happen to us?” Gideon asked her. 

River pressed a gauze pad against the gash in his arm and taped it in place before answering him. “I don’t know...but I do know that when everything is said and done and you do get to Heaven, whether it be next week or thirty years from now, Leah will be there waiting for you.”

The Pastor let out a deep breath wiping his face, “Did you spill gas on your clothes?”

River smiled, “Spill it? No it was more like, thrown on me...” Gideon gave her a strange look seeming to just notice the purplish bruise on her face and wrists. “Just don’t light a match around me. I’m good. Really. I look like shit but this isn’t the first time I’ve been tied up and beaten this year. It’s pretty much the only thing I’m good at anymore...” She laughed ironically at her own joke and fixed his shirt.

“You saved my flock,” Gideon told her.

“Did I?” She asked considering the alternatives. She stopped a couple dozen people from being burned to death. But what was next? Dying of a super-flu, getting eaten by zombies or simply perishing in the aftermath of the Archangels fight. “You’re going to be ok.” She told the Pastor not meeting his eyes and not truly believing he or anyone in this town was ever going to be truly ‘ok’ again.

He shook his head and stood up, “No I’m not. I don’t think any of us are.” Dean stopped pacing and watched the Pastor leave the room. He walked away into the dark parking lot leaving the hunters and the unconscious Angel in silence.

Dean suddenly felt the air in the room grow heavy. The walls seemed far too close. He looked down to Castiel’s still form, River’s swollen face and his brothers dark, worried eyes. “I’m gonna go get some ice for your face.” He told them. 

River gave him a small tired smile. “Thanks Baby.” She called as he closed the door behind him. “Sammy can you make some coffee? I need a shower.” A car door slammed shut outside in the parking lot and a second later the Impala growled to life. “Dean!” River yelled as she and Sam ran to the door. Sam wrenched the door open just as Dean kick the car into drive and spun Baby out of the parking lot.


	56. Chapter 56

Dean made it a quarter mile before his phone started ringing. He silenced it without checking to see who was calling and tossed it onto the seat next to him. It didn’t matter whether it was his brother or his girl. He’d seen his brother running after him, heard River scream his name. He wasn’t going to stop. He wasn’t going back no matter how bad he wanted to. He was angry and ashamed at himself for getting backed into this corner. They’d been pretending for months like they had options other than this. Just like before when it was his soul and an eternity in Hell on the line. Except this time he wasn’t afraid. Not anymore.

All it had taken was a stranger to tell them what they already knew: nothing was going to be ok. And despite what the demons thought about him, he wasn’t going to sit back and let the world end. Not when he now knew for sure this was the only way to stop Lucifer. He had a couple stops to make, a couple people to call, and then he’d summon Michael and get the show on the road. He turned the volume up, hoping ‘Ramble On’ would drown out the sound of the ringing coming from the glovebox where the stash of spare phones was.

“Son of a bitch!” River yelled as the Impala’s rear lights disappeared. 

Sam ran back towards the motel. “I’ll get us a car. Get our stuff and Cas!” He yelled running past her towards a line of abandoned cars parked along the deserted street. She screamed in anger and frustration and ran back to her room. She grabbed her duffel bag from the foot of her bed where it had been left when Leah and her zealots had snagged her then ran back to Dean and Sam’s room. Castiel still lay unmoving on one of the beds, his chest rising and falling shallowly. 

“Casie wake up, Angel.” She murmured to him swinging his legs over the side of the bed and pulling him to a sitting position.

His blue eyes fluttered open, “What’s happening?”

“Dean’s gone AWOL. We gotta go. Come on I got you,” she pulled one of his arms over her shoulders and with her other arm grabbed him around the waist.

“I-I can’t fly...I’m too weak,” he said as his legs almost collapsed causing River to stagger as she dragged him towards the door. A set of headlights swung into the parking lot as Sam drove towards them.

“I know...don’t worry about it Angel. Why are you so god damned heavy?” she muttered. “ We need to find that stupid stubborn son of a bitch before he kills himself,” River told him. Sam’s hot-wired car screeched loudly as he slammed on the breaks. He was out of the car and running toward them before it settled back on its rear wheels. Sam grabbed Cas under his other arm and together they loaded the Angel into the backseat. Sam shifted the car back into drive as River jumped into the passenger seat next to him. “Get to the highway,” she told him as he barreled through town. “I’ll hack the cameras as soon I can. Figure out what direction he went in...” she told him while she dug her laptop out of her bag. Sam nodded and stomped on the gas pedal. Even with such a short lead Dean and the Impala would be miles ahead of the hunk of junk Sam had scrounged up. Dean would keep off the highways and away from cameras as long as he could. With his warding, his smarts and his god damn need to fix everything Sam had little faith they’d catch Dean in time. He looked across the seat to River who had her phone to her ear listening to the empty rings and her laptop open waiting for some sort of internet signal.

“What the fuck are you doing? Why now? You Peace the fuck out, now? Asshole! I’m going to kick your ass so hard your fucking great grandchildren are gonna walk funny,” she yelled into the phone. “What the fuck, Sam? Did he say anything to you?” 

 

He shook his head,”No. He’s just been…off. Negative, quiet, extra brooding.” Sam shook his head and gave her a sarcastic smile. She was too focused on the traffic cameras to respond to his joke.

“He’s headed north,” she said finding the Impala on a traffic camera about fifty miles ahead of them. Her eyes flicked across the screens, brows furrowing, “No damn it…he’s gone. I can’t fucking find him…where the fuck did you go?” She furiously smashed buttons on the laptop, searching cameras in a hundred mile radius. Dean had disappeared off the highway as quickly as she had found him. She checked a local map trying to figure out the exits and where he might have gone. There were too many winding roads running in too many different directions. “Where would he go, Sam?” she asked. “Friends? A favorite bar or strip club?”

“We got about as many friends as you do,” Sam answered. “Which is none.” River’s shoulders dropped and she sat back silently scrolling through still images and short grainy bursts of video from the highway cameras. By dawn River realized Sam had steered them towards South Dakota. 

“When in doubt go to Bobby’s,” she said quietly as they pulled into the Singer salvage yard. 

By the time they dragged Cas out of the car and up the wheelchair ramp Bobby was waiting for them at the front door. He took a long look between Sam’s clenched jaw, the dark circles under Rivers’s eyes and Cas’s sweaty, gray face. “Where’s the other Idjit?” He asked. River shook her head. “Balls,” Bobby muttered under his breath before wheeling himself back inside. “What happened to him?” He called over his shoulder indicating Castiel. 

“The Whore of Babylon knocked him on his ass with some sort of nasty demonic hoodoo,” River grunted as she and Sam lay Cas down on the couch. He murmured some sort of thanks and then fell back to asleep.

“Did you say the Whore of Babylon?” Bobby asked. Sam nodded. “Ah hell…did you get her?”

“Yeah Dean-the-true-servant-of-heaven-Winchester ganked the evil cunt,” River sighed. “And then he fucking ditched us…Papa Bear, he’s gonna do something really fucking stupid. Like crossroads-deal stupid.” She pressed her fingers into her eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Alright….we’ll find him,” Bobby said matter of factly. Bobby and River started making phone calls while Sam tried to get a ping off one of Dean’s phones. The cell phones were quickly a dead end; Dean had turned them off or destroyed them. Bobby called Rufus and Sheriff Jody Mills to put a BOLO out on Dean and the Impala. 

River tried more than a few long shots. “No, Harry, Dean is the short one-the shorter one…Have you seen him or not…no I don’t want to talk to Ed….” She paced the kitchen restlessly, rubbing the back of her neck, listening to either Ed or Harry. “Sounds like a woman in white. Find out what she regrets and make the bitch face it… Of course you want to film it. An IR camera would probably work…Just don’t get yourselves killed…If you see Dean just call me ASAP. No I’m not pregnant…Jesus, I get knocked up one time…” She muttered hanging up the call. She turned around to face Sam who wore the same worn out look as her. “Anything?” she asked him.

 

He shook his head, “He’s off the grid. I tried a couple of his ex-girlfriends-“ River cocked an eyebrow. “Girlfriend’s probably too strong of a word…ex-booty calls?” Sam offered and she couldn’t help but smile at him. “They haven’t heard from him.”

“I shouldn’t’ve said anything about Zachariah,” she mumbled tiredly. “I shouldn’t’ve got my ass kicked again-“

“Look, whatever Dean is thinking about doing-it’s on him. All we can do is try and stop him.” Sam told her. She nodded and rubbed her face. 

Castiel stirred on the couch, sitting up unsteadily. His blue eyes narrowed to suspicious slits taking in the piles of books and empty fast food wrappers. “How did we get here?” he asked.

“We drove…How’s your head, Barney?” River asked him turning towards the coffee pot. 

Castiel cautiously ran his fingers along his hairline, “My head appears fine.”

River snorted. “You want some coffee, Casie? Or maybe some blueberry vodka?” she called over her shoulder while she set out a line of cups and started pouring coffee. A shudder ran through Castiel at the mention of alcohol and he shook his head. 

Bobby rolled into the kitchen tucking his cellphone into his shirt pocket. “Rufus ain’t got any leads. That idjit’s gotta mess up sooner or later…. Thanks, girl.” Bobby said taking the offered mug from River. She leaned heavily back against the sink holding her own cup of hot caffeine.

“I’m going to try Chuck again,” Sam told them. They’d tried to reach the Prophet a half dozen times already and had got nothing but his nervous voicemail message.

“Becky’s probably got him tied up in her red room,” River muttered over the rising steam from her coffee. “I need to Irish this shit up. Bobby, where’s the whiskey?” Bobby procured a half-full bottle of Wild Turkey from the side of his wheelchair. She took the bottle and tipped a healthy dose into her coffee then handed it to Sam. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she sloshed coffee down her shirt in her hurried attempt to answer it. Whoever was calling was calling from unknown number. “He-Hello?” She swallowed trying to slow her stammering heart. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.” Dean’s deep voice did nothing to calm her nerves.

“Where are you? What are you doing?” Her voice cracked. Suddenly Sam and Castiel were at her side, pressing in too close for comfort trying to hear what Dean was saying.

“I’m alright. I just wanted to let you know everything is gonna be alright. I mean it this time,” he said quietly.

“Bullshit, where the fuck are you, D?” She said elbowing past Sam and Cas. 

Dean sighed, “You’re not gonna find me-“

“Whatever you are thinking about doing just fucking stop. This isn’t how it fucking ends,“ She said cutting him off. 

Dean was silent for several long seconds. “I love you,” he finally said. 

River closed her eyes. Her phone shook against her ear. She could count on one hand the number of times he had actually said those words. He didn’t need to say it, at least thats what she told herself. He showed it in the way he wrapped himself around her while they slept, in the way he kissed or touched any new bump, bruise or scar she got on a hunt, the way he always opened her beers and always made sure to ask what the vegetarian options were when they went out to eat. “I know you do. I love you too, please-“ She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice even. 

“Do you know how different our lives might’ve been if I’d answered that call instead of Dad? Or if we’d have met just a few months earlier?” Dean paused again. “Maybe we would’a settled down somewhere…with the boys.” He sniffed and cleared his throat.

Tears ran down River’s face and she wiped them away, “Dean, please…don’t do this.”

“I practiced what I was gonna say to you. What I wanted you to tell Sammy and Cas and Bobby…I love you and that’s all there is. When I see myself happy, I see you. When I see a future, I see you. When it’s over and Michael is done then we can try to have a life together if you still want me…I said I was going to protect you. This is how keep all of you safe-“ Dean told her. His eyes drifted to the scene outside his car. Through the fat drops of rain pelting the glass he saw the Rabbi standing on the corner. His traditional Payot shaking around the sides of his face as he dipped and bowed with the intensity of his end times sermon. He wore a clapboard sign around his shoulders with a hand painted warning in English and Hebrew: “The End is Nigh. Pray and Repent.”

River took in a sharp breath, “No! No, Dean. I don’t know what Michael or Zachariah has told you but there won’t be an after. Gabriel told me what happened to his vessel, to the man inside. He obliterated him! Michael will destroy you. He doesn’t care about you, about us…you will be nothing but an empty shell. Me and Sam will be pillars of salt if we’re lucky. Don’t fucking do this!”

“I love you and I gotta do this because I’m the only one who can.” He didn’t say goodbye. He snapped the flip phone in half and tossed the pieces onto the floorboard before he could hear River sob his name. 

“Dean! Dean!” She screamed into the phone. “No! Sam, no! He can’t do this!” Sam grabbed the phone out of her hand and yelled into it as River covered her face with her hands finally breaking down. Sam ran to his laptop trying to figure out a way to trace Dean’s call. Bobby hung his head and took a long swig from the bottle of Wild Turkey. Castiel ran his hand along his jaw, his blues lit with fury. It took several long moments for River to compose herself. Her angry sobs petering out into wet hiccups. “Stupid stubborn asshole,” River mumbled wiping tears off her face. She grabbed her cup of whiskey and coffee off the counter and walked towards the back door.

“Where are you going?” Sam called after her.

“I’m gonna watch the sunset.” She answered letting the rusted screen door slam in her wake. Bobby’s ancient weather-beaten porch swing gave a nails-on-chalkboard squeak a few seconds later. Sam settled into the swing next to her, swinging one long arm over her shoulder and she leaned into his warm chest and said, “I love you, Sam.” 

He turned his head and kissed the top of her head. “Love you too, shorty.” He replied. They sat quietly for several minutes drinking their coffee and watching as the sun disappeared behind the towers of wrecked cars. The screen door slammed again followed by Cas’s heavy footsteps and the quiet swish of Bobby’s wheelchair. Castiel leaned against one of the wood pillars crossing his arms over his chest. 

Bobby parked his wheelchair next to the swing. “So we’re just gonna sit here and wait for the world to end?” He asked. River and Sam nodded.

“Good a place as any,” River said. “I’m all out of ideas. Unless you got an ace up your sleeve?” He grunted and slouched back in his wheelchair. 

His thought of the scroll hidden under his mattress, “I might got something…” 

River leaned over and cocked an eyebrow at him, “And?”

“And…I gotta explain a couple things to you first-“ He began.

Castiel grunted and rubbed his temple. “You alright Casie?” River asked the Angel. He didn’t answer in English but growled several Enochian words. River drew in a shocked breath, “Castiel, do you kiss your mother with that filthy fucking mouth?” 

The Angel glanced over his shoulder at her, his blue eyes narrowed. “I don’t have a mother.” He said then disappeared. 

“He’s such a god damn drama queen. At least Gabriel never singed my eyebrows when took off…” River muttered taking another sip of coffee. “So Papa Bear, that plan of yours....”

Dean stepped out of the Impala. The rain had stopped a few minutes ago. The air was crisp and refreshing as the Rabbi continued his curbside sermon. “Brothers and Sisters, the Angels speak to me! There is still time to make yourselves righteous in their eyes!” 

The Hunter strode calmly forward stopping a few feet from the man in the clapboard sign. “I’m Dean Winchester.” He said loudly over the mans preaching. The mans prophetic ranting faltered and he looked at Dean wonderingly. “You know who I am?” The holy man nodded. “Tell your bosses I wanna parlay.” The man fell to his knees rapturously, hands clasped and began praying loudly in Hebrew. Dean tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket wondering how long it would take for one of the feathered dick bags to show up. He didn’t have to wait long. A firm hand clamped down on his shoulder. He wrenched his head around and came face to face with Castiel. “Cas?” He choked out surprised. Cas’s eyes were blazing with cold blue fury. For a split second Dean was sure he could see the same light radiating through the Angels skin. Castiel picked Dean up and tossed him into the alley behind the Rabbi. He bounced off the brick wall letting out a pained grunt. Castiel marched towards him, his tan trench coat billowing behind him. Dean scrambled to his feet, hands outstretched towards Castiel, “Cas, please.” 

The Angel grabbed his jacket roughly in one clenched fist and yanked Dean towards him, “I fell for you!” He seethed slamming his other fist into Dean’s face and knocking the hunter off his feet and into a pile of plastic bags full of rotten trash. Dean saw bright spots behind his eyes and heard a funny high pitched ring in his ears.

“Cas-“ Dean mumbled his head still spinning. He grabbed weakly for Cas’s coat. Cas swatted his hands aside and punched him again. This time Dean tasted blood as Cas’s fist smashed into his lips.

“I disobeyed! For you! I am an outcast! I’ve lost everything for you!” Castiel yelled dragging Dean to his feet. Dean felt like he’d been hit by a truck. Pure rage was rolling off Castiel in hot waves.

“Please-“ Dean begged through swollen lips. 

Castiel sneered. “I gave you everything and you repay me with cowardice.” Before Dean blacked out he felt Castiel’s warm fingers touch his forehead.

“Bobby you got anymore of that wine?” River yelled as she bent over in front of the fridge searching through stacks of old take out boxes. Bobby had conveniently drawn a blank when River tried to steer their conversation back to his plan so she’d given up and decided to drink more. The kitchen light flickered and a sudden draft sent a shiver down down her spine. “Holy fuck Cas! Dean, oh god! Sammy!” Cas appeared in the kitchen in front of her with Dean hanging limply from his arm. Dean’s face was bruised and swollen. “Shit, Casie what happened...” She cried running to Dean’s other side, he moaned when she maneuvered herself under his arm. Sam skidded into the kitchen with Bobby hot on his heels.

“I did.” Cas growled. “I’ll put him downstairs. Sam get handcuffs.” Sam took one look at his brothers beaten face and the stony mask plastered on Cas’s and nodded compliantly. 

Castiel carried Dean down the narrow staircase and dropped him onto the small cot in Bobby’s ghost proof bug out shelter. “How’d you find him?” Sam asked quietly as River kneeled beside Dean applying butterfly bandages to a gash in his eyebrow.

Cas sighed, “I heard a prayer from a mentally unstable man the Angels have been using as a spy.” 

Dean slowly opened his eyes and blinked them back into focus. “You shouldn’t have stopped me.” He mumbled. 

River helped him sit up. “So, he should have let you commit suicide?” 

Dean’s forest green eyes narrowed, “It’s not suicide. We both know how things are going. How they are going to go.”

“We don’t know anything Dean. We’re still here, we’re still us...” Sam said stepping towards him. Dean tried to stand and realized his wrist was handcuffed to the bed. 

“Fucking really? Let me go,” he demanded yanking on the chain.

River shook her head and stepped back, “Nope. You’re staying right there while we figure something out that doesn’t involve you jumping off the deep end.”

“Figure what out? We haven’t had a lead on the Horsemen in weeks. We are out of time and I’m not gonna watch my brother say yes to the Devil and I’m not gonna watch you die!” He yelled. River sighed and crossed her arms over her chest.

Cas stopped pacing and glared at him. Sam crossed the room towards his brother, “We aren’t out of time, Dean.”

Dean scoffed, “Eight months of us getting our asses handed to us and tonight. Tonight is when the magic is going to happen?”

“Bobby’s working on something.” Sam told him.

Dean laughed, “Well, What is it?” Sam closed his mouth and looked at River, they didn’t know what the plan was or if there really was a plan. “Right. That’s what I thought. This is the only way and you god damn know it! This is how we save people!”

“The only way? You’re gonna die Dean if you say yes to Michael! A whole bunch of fucking people are gonna die! ” River yelled back. “There is another way! We will find Pestilence and Death and we will deal with them. And you can either put your big girl panties on and help us or you can stay down here! Because I-I am not going to let you die again! Sam isn’t gonna let you die again!” She gathered her dressing supplies and angrily stuffed them back into her bag careful not to leave anything Dean could use to pick the lock on the handcuffs. Sam and Castiel turned away from Dean and headed for the iron door of the shelter. 

“Riv, baby wait. Ok! Ok, I’m not thinking clearly uncuff me and we can talk.” Dean said trying to keep his voice even and calm.

“We can talk with the cuffs on. You got something to say, Winchester? You had a lot to say a couple of hours ago,” she said. 

Dean looked at his feet, a faint pink tinge spreading across his cheeks. “You know how I feel. About you. About us. What I said was the truth and that’s why you have let me do this.”

“And that’s exactly why you are going to stay chained up down here.” River smiled and shook her head, “There’s been a flu outbreak in a village in Columbia, reports of omens, demonic possessions, a two headed calf was born yesterday. Me and Cas are going to check it out. If Pestilence is still there we’ll find him.”

“Bullshit, Princess. You’re not going anywhere. Cas is a big boy he can go alone,” Dean said yanking on the handcuff again.

“We’ve already discussed it and Cas isn’t going alone. He’s too weak to defend himself against more than a couple of demons at a time. Enjoy your staycation at Casa de Singer. Ruminate on how much you hurt Castiel’s feelings…We’ll leave the nightlight on for you.” River told him as she shut the iron door in his face. The screech of metal on concrete followed them up the stairs as Dean tried to drag the cot towards the door. 

Sam turned to face her at the top of the stairs. “You sure you don’t want me to go with Cas.” He asked. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sammy. After those fucking demons in that church you should probably stay off the radar for a bit. If it’s a trap…fuck it, I’m not worth anything to them anyways. They’ll kill me quick… Probably… Hopefully.” She said smiling at him. “Casie, you ready?” She called down the hallway were Castiel had walked ahead. 

Bobby rolled towards them, maneuvering his wheelchair around piles of books and stacks of newspapers, “Cas ain’t here.”

“What do you mean he isn’t here? He was just here, Bobby. What the fuck?” River yelled pushing around him towards his sitting room. The sun was just rising, bright early morning light leeching in through the dirty windows illuminating the very empty room. The only sign that Cas had left in a hurry were the several pieces of papers and candy wrappers that were fluttering slowly to the ground. River cursed again under her breath and pulled her phone out of her back pocket. She jabbed her finger at the screen and waited for Cas to answer. Cas’s ringtone blared loudly from somewhere on Bobby’s desk. She swiped at a pile of newspaper clippings and found his old-man flip phone. “God damn it, Castiel.” She muttered angrily. 

“What the hells going on up there?” Dean’s voice drifted up from the heating vents in the floor. 

Several hundred miles away Castiel touched down between two giant pine trees. The deep earthy smell of wet earth and aseptic sent of pine needles of the forrest were a welcome relief from the aroma of old food and dust that permeated Bobby Singer’s home. Castiel had heard something strange over Angel radio. A soul had been called back from Heaven and a retrieval team had been dispatched to collect him and his newly resurrected body. Since Castiel was already on Earth and in a vessel he made it first. Dry leaves crunched under his shoes as he made his way forward, his grace acting like a compass and leading him to the burial spot. The earth churned as someone underneath was digging his way out. Castiel shoved his hands down into the mossy earth and grabbed the cold hand blindly searching for a way out. He pulled the body out of the grave as two more Angels landed next to him. Cas dropped the man on the ground where he lay unconscious. He pulled his Angel blade from the folds of his jacket and faced his brothers. 

“Traitor!” One of the Angles spat at him. It was the only word uttered before they attacked. Weakened as he was, Castiel was still a skilled warrior. Within moments his brothers lay dead at his feet. They had been over confidant, believing their righteous anger would be enough to slay him. The pain of their deaths cut him as deeply as if he had been stabbed with their Angel blades. He heard another alarm sound over Angel Radio, their deaths had already been noticed in Heaven and another, bigger retrieval team was being mustered. Castiel grabbed the man off the ground, flapped his wings and disappeared from the forrest. 

River and Sam sat across from each other at Bobby’s kitchen table, each with their laptop open and following up on the reports of the flu outbreak. Reports were slowly being filtered through the CDC, the flu strand from China had all but disappeared, mutating into something new. The death rates were stalling, people were sick and afraid but at least they weren’t croaking by the thousands. The news was doing a good job of ratcheting up the panic, warning that this could be the calm before the storm. Medical experts were on full alert, holding press conferences beseeching individuals to get their flu shot as soon as they were available. There had been riots at a few clinics in China when rumor spread they were stockpiling vaccines for government officials and the super wealthy. A biotech company was promising a new, more effective vaccine to be available in a few weeks with enough doses to be distributed globally. “I don’t fucking get it,” River muttered closing her laptop and looking at Sam. 

He raised his eyebrows, “What?”

“Why is the flu killing less people now? I would think Pestilence would want to thin the herd a bit before he releases the Croatoan virus….and how is it gonna go global? Chemtrails? Contaminated salad mixes?” 

Sam let out a deep breath and shook his head, “I don’t know. I don’t really want to know.”

“River! Lemme outta here!” Dean’s voice disembodied voice drifted through the floor. “At least give me a conjugal visit. I’m bored!” He whined.

She laughed, “I like it when he begs.”

“Yeah that’s TMI. Thanks for that,” Sam muttered. 

A heavy thud sounded from the sitting room followed by Bobby letting out a startled, “Balls!” River and Sam leapt up form the table and rushed into the next room where they found Bobby sitting at his desk slack jawed starring at Castiel. The Angel had an unmoving, mud covered man slung over his shoulder. He dumped the man on Bobby’s sagging threadbare couch. “Who the hell is that?” Bobby demanded.

“Holy shit, that’s Adam,” River answered. She suddenly had her hands wrapped around Sams upper arm tight enough to hurt him. “Why? Casie why’d they resurrect him?”

“I don’t know.” Castiel answered. “I have to make sure they don’t find him.” He touched Adam’s chest and the man moaned in his sleep as Castiel’s Enochian sigils were burned into his ribs. 

Sam grimaced as Rivers fingernails dug into him. “Riv, your velociraptor claws are gonna tear my arm off.” She jumped and released his arm mumbling an apology. “I’m gonna get Dean.” Sam slipped past her before she could latch back onto his arm. 

“This can’t be good…this can’t be good, Cas.” River mumbled as she started to chew her thumbnail. 

“Do one of you party crashing jackasses want to tell me what the hell…what the hell?” Dean stopped his grumbling and stared at the still unconscious young man dripping mud onto Bobby’s grimy floor. “Is that-“

“Your brother, Adam, yes.” Castiel said finally tearing his eyes away from Adam to turn and look at Dean. 

River continued to nibble nervously on her fingernails and Dean swatted her hands away from her mouth. “That’s a bad habit. Knock it off.”

“Well you said taking a handful of Xanax was a bad habit too...” River told him. “The gang’s all here wake him the fuck up, Cas. “ The Angel nodded and touched Adam’s forehead. 

He shot off the couch as if he’d been given an electric shock. “Where is Zachariah?” Adam demanded after taking several deep, rasping breaths.

“Hey pal, how ‘bout you sit back down. Zachariah isn’t here,” Dean told him. 

Adam wiped a thick streak of mud off his face and glared at Dean, “Don’t ‘hey pal’ me Dean. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.” Dean’s eyebrows shot up and he shared a silent look with Sam. The real Adam had been dead before they’d ever met him, murdered and eaten by a Ghoul. They had never met the real Adam and he should know nothing of them. “I know who you are. The Angels warned me about you two. Said you’d would try to get in my way.”

“Did that bald fuck tell you they’re your brothers?” River asked. Adam gave a slight tilt of his head indicating an affirmative. “What else did he tell you?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, “I wanna a shower. And then maybe we can talk.”

River let out an annoyed whistle, “Glad to know the snarky fucking attitude is a Winchester family trait.”

Sam gave Adam a friendly smile and said, “Cas, why don’t you show Adam to the shower.”

“Just when I thought things couldn’t get any more fucked,” River muttered watching as Dean and Sam’s newly resurrected half-brother followed Cas out of the sitting room and up the stairs.

Dean sighed, “Tell me about it. Can you uncuff me now?”

“No,” Sam, River and Bobby answered simultaneously.

“Oh come on!” 

River hooked her arm through Dean’s and walked them towards the kitchen, “It’s kind of refreshing to see someone other than me tied up. Help me make some coffee.”

Adam was done with his shower and dressed in some of Dean’s spare clothes by the time the coffee was done brewing. 

The hunters and the Angel gathered in front of Adam. The younger man bounced his feet nervously. “Look if it’s all the same to you, I need to get going. Ok? I’m kind of on a time crunch here,” he said taking the cup of coffee River offered him. He took a sip and grimaced, “Can I have some cream and sugar?”

“Does this look like Starbucks to you?” She said as she leaned back on top of Bobby’s desk between Sam and Dean, who leaned over the back of a chair. Adam set the coffee down on the floor near his feet and remained silent.

“How about you start from the beginning?” Dean asked once he realized Adam wasn’t going to be the one to break the ice.

Adam took a deep breath, “Well after I was eaten alive by some freak monster-“

“You remember that?” Dean cut in.

He shook his head. “Yeah every single minute of it...Anyways I woke up in Heaven, I guess, it my Senior Prom. My date was Wendy McPherson, we were making out by the punch bowl.”

Dean nodded, “Sounds like my kind of Heaven. Did you get to third base?” River kicked his knee and mouthed ‘Really?’ rolling her eyes at Dean the professional big brother.

“Keep going Adam,” Sam encouraged. 

“These…Angels popped in and Wendy was gone. They said I was chosen-“

River leaned forward, “Chosen for what?”

Adam smiled proudly, “To save the world.”

“How you gonna do that son?” Bobby asked. Castiel stood silently behind them arms crossed over his chest.

“Me and an Archangel are gonna kill the Devil.” Adam continued.

“What’s the Archangels name?” River asked. They all knew the answer but wanted to know how much Adam had been told by the Angels.

“Michael. I’m his vessel. His weapon.” He answered. Dean scoffed and looked up at River and Sam. 

“Cas is that possible?” River asked.

Castiel tilted his head thinking quietly for several long seconds. “Possibly.” He finally answered. “He is John Winchester’s bloodline and Sam’s brother. It is not perfect but I suppose it is possible…the Angels are moving on from you Dean.”

“Bullshit, Cas. All these months of Dean being ‘the chosen one’, the only one that can help Michael defeat Lucifer. Why now?” River said

Cas sighed, “They’re desperate. Lucifer is gaining power every minute he walks the Earth. The Angels are losing. Michael will be defeated without his vessel. Perhaps Heaven has lost faith in Dean.”

Sam stood up, “No, Cas. River’s right this is bullshit. What about destiny? And now they have a Plan B?”

Adam looked between the strangers in front of him. “Look this has been a great family reunion but I got a thing…” He said standing up and moving towards the kitchen. Castiel appeared in front of him causing him to take a step back.

“Sit the fuck down, Adam. We aren’t done here,” River said quietly. “Did Zachariah tell you what’s going to happen when Michael and Lucifer have their little fight night?”

Adam turned around to face her, “I know there’s gonna be some collateral damage-“

“Collateral damage? Half the world is gonna burn. If Michael loses then the other half is gonna wish it fucking burned.” River said. “You have no idea, no concept of what we’ve faced to get to this god damned point. We have to stop them. Michael and Lucifer.” 

“They warned me about you. Said you hate them and you would say anything to turn me against them.” Adam told her. River ran her hands through her hair and shook her head.

“Look, Adam. The Angels are lying. Whatever they’ve told you…it’s a lie.” Sam said putting a hand on River’s arm. “There doesn’t have to be a fight. There is another way.”

Adam crossed his arms over his chest making him look a lot like Dean when he got annoyed, “Great. So what is it?”

Dean smiled, “Well we’re working on the power of positive thinking. We’ve all been reading ‘The Secret’. You know: believe it and make it happen.”

“Shut up, Winchester.” River muttered.

“I get it, you don’t know us. But I am begging you to just give us time.” Sam continued.

‘Why should I?” Adam asked.

“Because they’re your blood. Your family.” River told him.

The younger man shook is head, a stray piece of dirty blonde hair falling over his eye. “You have no right to say that to me.”

“John Winchester was your father. Same as theirs. Like it or not,” Bobby said. 

“John Winchester was some guy would blow into town once a year take me to a baseball game and fuck my mom. He wasn’t my dad,” Adam replied. “My family, my only family was my mom and if I do my job and help Michael defeat Lucifer then I get to see her again. So no offense but I don’t a shit about any of you or anyone else for that matter.”

River rested her head between her hands muttering, “Fuck.”

“Alright, enough,” Dean said standing up. “I’m done. Uncuff me and let me go.”

“Excuse me?” River said looking at him.

“You heard him, he doesn’t give a shit about us. He says yes to Michael and we’re all dead.” He said. “And I’m sorry but I’m not getting a real Rocky Balboa feel from you, kid.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” Adam asked. 

“It means you can’t beat Lucifer.” Dean told him. “ So give me the key Princess and let me go.”

“I don’t have the key, baby. Cas does.” River smiled at him. 

“Why is he handcuffed anyways?” Adam asked them.

River tilted her head and a shot a glance at Dean, “Because I like it kinky. And if you don’t sit the fuck back down I got a fuzzy pink pair you can wear too.” Adam looked unsurely at her then up to Sam who nodded. He slowly lowered himself back onto the sagging couch. Dean took the opportunity to try and attack Castiel. His bound hands frantically pulling at the pockets in Cas’s trench coat trying to find the small handcuff key. The Angel gave an annoyed sigh, clasped Dean by the back of the neck and they both disappeared. Dean’s disgruntled voice boomed through the air vents yelling “Son of a bitch!” as Castiel again slammed the iron door in his face.

“So I’m on house arrest?” Adam asked as Castiel reappeared. 

A few hundred miles away Zachariah stood in front of the empty grave. Displaced earth and the two dead Angels the only signs of what had transpired. He smiled smugly. Thus far the Winchester’s and their friends had escaped his attempts to coerce Dean into fulfilling his destiny. He thought he had had the perfect bait using River’s own mind against her. A few more days and he was sure he would have broken her and in turn broken Dean’s will to refuse. Damn that traitor Castiel and whatever he had done to break his connection with that red headed bitch. 

Zachariah had left Heaven in disgrace knowing it was only a matter of time before Raphael sent the Powers to smite him. He shuddered at the memory of witnessing the Powers in action an eon earlier when his former supervisor had been pink-slipped. But Michael, in his infinite wisdom, had given him another chance to ensure Dean Winchester’s consent. The Archangel needed his vessel before Lucifer or his two remaining Horsemen gained any more strength. Heaven knew it was only a matter of time before Sam would give in to the Morningstar and if that happened before Michael had a suitable vessel all of their plans would be for naught. So, Zachariah had pulled out all the stops; ordering a full resurrection and a potential altering of an individuals Heaven was real heavy hitter stuff. He saw this as not only redemption but an unofficial promotion. Now all he had to do was wait.

Dean had quieted down a few hours ago, probably falling asleep to help pass the time leaving the house in an uneasy silence. River rolled over and looked up at the dark ceiling mentally tracing the outline of the brown water stain. Castiel had decided to cancel their excursion to Columbia and instead disappeared to parts unknown to try and find out some intel on why the Winchester’s half brother had been resurrected. Her stomach growled and she realized she didn’t remember the last time she’d eaten anything; sustaining herself on nothing but coffee since Dean had bounced from Blue Sky then been wrangled back by Castiel. She checked her phone and noted it was almost her turn to watch Adam anyways. The younger man was a flight risk and couldn’t be left alone. Sam had taken the first shift trying to engage Adam using friendlier tactics then River was known for. Bobby had, as per his usual routine of late, passed out drunk at his desk leaving Adam to sit on the couch chanel surfing and Sam in the kitchen on his laptop. 

River padded quietly into the kitchen tapping Sam on the shoulder to rouse him from his half lidded stupor. “Hungry?” She asked as he straightened up wiping the sleep out of his eyes. He shook his head no. “Adam you want something to eat?” She quietly called out to him. 

“Sure.” Came his apathetic response. 

“Sure,” she repeated sarcastically. “I was resurrected by a bunch of douchebag Angels to help end the world but I’ll take a PB and J first. Sure-“ She kept mumbling to herself as she slapped their sandwiches together. 

Sam chuckled, “You sure you’re up to the next five hours?”

She nodded and told him, “Go to bed. I got this.” She handed Adam his sandwich and he took it without even grunting a ‘thank you’. 

“Just don’t shoot him.” Sam gave her hand a supportive squeeze as he walked past her and headed up the stairs to his bedroom. Bobby was still asleep at his desk so River tucked a pillow under his head and he snored softly, one hand still wrapped around his empty bottle of whiskey. Adam sat silently in front of the TV for a few more hours while River curled up in the chair in front of Bobby’s fireplace with a book on Apocalyptic lore. Eventually the archaic writing and constant need to cross reference names and places made her eyelids heavy. She yawned, stretched, put the book on the floor and decided it was time for more coffee. Adam was asleep slumped over on the couch with a bubble of drool ready to drip out of his open mouth. She tossed an afghan over him on her way back to the kitchen. The moon was high and bright in the post-midnight sky giving River more than enough ambient light to move around Bobby’s kitchen to set up the coffee pot. She tapped her fingers impatiently on the chipped wood counter waiting as the coffee slowly dripped into the stained glass carafe. 

A floorboard squeaked behind her and she turned around holding her mug of fresh coffee. Adam stood in the near dark still half dazed from sleep. “Adam? You want some coffee?” She asked him. He didn’t answer but his hazel eyes flicked to a spot behind her. The hairs on her arm stood up as the air in the kitchen filled with static electricity. River spun on her heels to face the presence behind her. A pale stranger in a crisp suit had appeared in the kitchen. “What the hell is this?” She cried stumbling away from him and hitting her hip on the corner of the dining table. Her cup of coffee slipped out of her hand and dropped to the floor. 

The sound of the shattering mug roused Bobby. “Will you idjits...balls!” He had a blurry eyed, split second vision of River, Adam and an unknown intruder before the three disappeared from the kitchen. “Balls!” He grumbled again. “Sam git your ass down here!” 

A door upstairs opened and Sam’s heavy footsteps thudded on the floor above. “River! Please tell me you didn’t shoot Adam-“ He appeared at the base of the stairs, his longish hair sticking up at all angles and still buttoning his flannel shirt. “Where the hell are they?” 

Bobby rolled around the desk starting at the now empty kitchen. “Gone.” 

“What do you mean gone? They left? River wouldn’t have gone-“ Sam said.

“I didn’t say they left, Son. I said they’re gone. They were here and now they ain’t. There was someone else here, guy in a suit and he’s gone too.” Bobby told him. 

“Shit...” Sam muttered as he started inspecting the kitchen for clues. “No sulfur….”

“The Angels took them.” Castiel said reappearing in Bobby’s sitting room. His blue eyes narrowed, forehead creased with worry.

River and Adam found themselves in a lavish room. Classic paintings depicting Angelic beings from every culture adorned that walls. The furniture belonged in a palace. A long dark wood table sat in the middle of the room where bucket of ice cold beer and a silver platter of paper wrapped, greasy cheese burgers were waiting. River recognized the room as the same one Zachariah had kept Dean prisoner in while Sam was spiraling towards breaking the last seal. She ran towards the door at the far end of the room. The door blinked out of existence as she reached her hand towards the doorknob. “No!” She screamed banging her fists off the wall. “What did you do?” She yelled spinning towards Adam. “What did you do? How did they find us?”

Adam shrugged, “Zachariah asked where I was. So I told him.” 

“You told him?” 

He nodded and sat at the table pulling the tray of burgers towards him. “Relax. Once I seal the deal with Michael I’ll have Zachariah take you back. They weren’t supposed to bring you along-“

River gave a short, sharp laugh. “Seal the deal with Michael. You stupid-“ She took a deep breath trying to remember Adam had no knowledge of the life she and the Winchester’s shared. He had been kept deliberately separate, apart and ignorant of the dark side of the world. “There is no deal with Michael! Not with you. Don’t you get that? We are bait you shit head!”

“I’m chosen. Zachariah told me.”

“That dickbag will tell you anything to get to what he wants. The Angels are liars. They don’t give a shit about you! About your mom-“ She started. “They’ve been playing us since day one. They let a demon murder my sons! They let Dean go to Hell and Sam be manipulated into letting Lucifer out of the cage in the first place. They’ve been rooting for the end of the world since we grew legs and crawled out of the ocean!”

Adam laughed and twisted open a bottle of beer, “Man, you are wound tight. Have something to eat-“

River pushed the platters of burgers and beers onto the floor. “Zachariah is using you, Adam. You are not Michaels true vessel.” She said slamming her palm onto the table. “Dean is. And he’s gonna come here and try to rescue us because he’s a stupid son of a bitch….we need to get out of here!”

“I always knew you were smart for a mud monkey.” Zachariah said appearing next to River. His hands clasped behind back and a look of smug contempt on his pointed face. She shrank away from the Angel in disgust. “Oh no, no, no I'll be taking that.” One of his soft, manicured hands grasped her wrist hard enough to make her gasp in pain and stagger to her knees. With his other hand he pulled at the ring Castiel had given her.

River struggled against him, “NO!”

“Would you rather I rip your hand off?” He asked squeezing her wrist tighter. She shook her head once and relaxed her fingers. Zachariah slid the ring off and held it up to the light, inspecting the deep blue of the ancient stone in the center. The ring caught fire and melted into nothingness between Zachariah’s fingers. He wiped his hand on River’s shirt and turned to Adam. “Well champ, you performed top notch. Following orders like a good little grunt.” He said clapping him on the shoulder. 

The younger man gave him an unsure smile and looked down to River who still kneeled on the floor taking deep breaths. “Thank-thank you…um,” he cleared his throat nervously. “So are we ready?”

Zachariah tilted his head and raised his eyebrows quizzically, “Ready for what?”

“To you know…call Michael or however it works.” Adam said. 

“Oh yes…well this is very difficult but,” His voice took a well-practiced empathic edge. “I’m afraid your position has been terminated at this time.”

“Wh-what …what?” Adam stammered.

“Yeah you see, these are difficult times and cuts must be made. And I may have stretched the bit about you being the ‘Chosen One’.” Zachariah said. Adam pushed up from the table knocking over the chair he was sitting in. “She’s a smart cookie that one. You led us right to her.” The Angel tipped his head towards River without looking at her. “And she’s right. You are bait. The thing you should know about your big brother Dean is: he has a martyr streak in him a mile wide. How could he resist rescuing the woman he loves and his baby brother? Why, he would do anything to keep his family sa-“ Zachariah’s pompous monologue was cut short as he screamed in agony. A blinding white light erupted around him as he was forcefully banished from the room. 

“Fucking bald rat faced dick bag,” River muttered through her teeth as she stood up and revealed the Enochian banishing symbol she had scrawled at her feet. She dropped the bloody piece of the broken beer bottle back onto the floor and tightly closed her fist to try and staunch the bleeding. “Believe me now?” She asked Adam.

He nodded and said, “Did you kill him?”

“No. I just booted his ass out of here for a bit. I can’t stand his greasy fucking voice.” She told him. “ When he comes back he’s gonna be fucking pissed. So we need to find a god damn way out of here.” She turned on her heels, eyes scanning the room mind racing through different ideas to get out. “No way. The door is back. Adam lets go.” She grabbed his arm and drug him towards the door that had reappeared. 

“We don’t even know where we are,” Adam said following her.

 

“Doesn’t matter. Anywhere is better than here,” she said. “We have to get out of here before he comes back.” She flung the door open and she and Adam were instantly thrown across the room slamming into opposite walls and sliding to the floor dazed. 

Zachariah strode in clicking his tongue impatiently. “Now I was more than willing to let you two die in peace. It seems its going to be a bit more….messy now.” He snapped his fingers and River and Adam clutched at their stomachs groaning in pain. “Imagine: Dean walking in and seeing you two drowning in your own liquified internal organs. Well, that might just push him over the edge…” River whimpered as a fresh torrent of churning pain ripped through her. Adam coughed across the room, bright red blood splattering his lips as he curled into a fetal position. Her stomach rolled and she barely had time to turn her head to the side before she vomited chunky, black and red gore.

Sam and Castiel stood silently outside the iron door of Bobby’s ghost proof fall out shelter. “He’s going to be pissed. You know that right?” Sam said to the Angel. Castiel nodded his head. They unlocked the door and Castiel swung it open on its screeching hinges. The noise roused Dean who sat up and glared at his brother and friend. “Time to rise and shine.” Sam said stepping into the shelter. 

“Is it yard time already? What do you want?” Dean asked.

Sam took a deep breath, “Adam and River are gone.”

Dean shot up, the handcuff around his wrist jerking the bed several inches off the ground. “What?” He yelled.

“The Angels have them,” Sam said.

“Didn’t you do the thing with his ribs?“ Dean bellowed at Castiel.

“I believe Adam must have tipped off Zachariah in a dream.” Castiel told him.

“I’m gonna rip that son of bitches lungs out!” He yelled. “Where are they?”

Sam tucked his hands into his pockets. “The room where they took you.”

Dean’s green eyes darkened with anger, “You sure?” Castiel nodded. 

“Cas checked it out. The place is crawling with Angels.” Sam began. “It’s pretty much impossible to penetrate; a no shot-in-hell, hail-Mary kind of thing.”

“So…pretty much another day in paradise. What are we gonna do?” Dean asked.

Sam withdrew his hand from his pocket, the small silver handcuff key clutched between his fingers. “We are all going together. Michael needs you and…you’re the only play we have.”

“This is a trap. You two realize that?” Sam and Castiel nodded. “This is the only way Zachariah can force our hand. Get me where he wants me, make me say yes.…and I’m warning you now. I’m gonna say yes.” The handcuff slid off his wrist and Dean rubbed the raw skin. “You get Adam and Riv and you run. You run and fight as long as you can.” 

Sam shook his head. “You’re not gonna say yes Dean. I know you. When it comes down to it. You’ll make the right choice.”

“We’re leaving now,” Castiel said grabbing each brother by the shoulder. He unfurled his invisible wings, Dean felt something warm brush against his cheek then they were being ripped through the atmosphere. Colors and shapes blurred together. Dean thought he was going to yak and then, thankfully, Castiel landed. Dean shook his head to clear the lingering motion sickness. A jumbo jet flew overhead, its booming engines disrupting the background noise of honking cars and wails of police and ambulance sirens. Ugly palm trees with thick thatched trunks and low hanging spindly fronds dotted the horizon. 

“Where the hell are we Cas?” He asked.

“Van Nuys, California.” The Angel answered. He led them through an abandoned lot overgrown with dead weeds and piles of trash towards a large industrial building. 

Dean looked around disbelieving. “The Angelic hideaway is an abandoned muffler factory in Van Nuys?”

Castiel nodded, “Where did you think it was?” They stopped outside the factory doors. The paint that once proudly identified the company name long since faded and peeling in the unforgiving California sun.

“Tell me again why we can’t Shazaam in there, grab River and Adam and bounce?” Sam asked. 

Castiel turned quietly towards them. “Because there are at least five Angels in there.” He looked over his shoulder nervously scouting their surroundings.

“Well you’re fast,” Dean told him.

The Angel gave him a tight smile. “They’re faster.” He loosened his blue tie and pulled it over his head tucking it into one of the pockets of his coat. “I will get rid of them. You two grab River and Adam. This is our only chance.”

Dean put his hand on Castiel’s arm. “Wait, you’re gonna face off against five Angels? Isn’t that suicide?”

Castiel shrugged and started to unbutton his dress shirt. “Maybe it is. But then at least I won’t have to watch you fail. Too bad I can’t say the same for your brothers or River. I’m sorry but I no longer have the faith in you that they do.” He pulled a box cutter out of another pocket and handed it to Dean. 

Dean raised his eyebrows and took the knife. “What the hell do you want me to do with this?” Castiel told him exactly what his plan was. After Dean was done he tossed the knife aside and watched as Castiel gingerly buttoned his shirt around the bleeding wound in his chest. The interior of the building was dark. Rank water dripped from broken pipes and mixed with pigeon droppings to make a revolting sludge that coated most of the cement floors. Castiel’s keen ice blue eyes roamed over the dark corners of the building, his grace reaching out to sense the presence of any of his brothers or sisters. They were near. They would sense him and in turn be drawn to him. A small building appeared out of the shadows. Dark, broken windows and rotted wood panels made it seem long empty and forgotten. The first of his brothers appeared out of the darkness, his Angel blade slashing at Castiel’s neck in a deadly arch. Cas dodged the first attack and sent the other Angel sprawling to the floor. He was on him in an instant. The Angel’s blade turned against its owner as Cas plunged it into the heart of his attacker. The Angel screamed, his grace exploding out his eyes and mouth in a brilliant white flash of light. 

Four more Angels appeared surrounding Castiel on all sides. They slowly circled him, keeping their distance for now. He tossed the blood covered blade aside. “What are you waiting for! Come on!” He yelled at them in Enochian. They took his challenge and attacked as one. Castiel waited until they were a half pace away before he ripped his shirt away exposing the Enochian banishing sigil Dean had carved into his chest. With one bloody hand he ignited the sigil expelling not only the four Angels attacking him but also himself from the building. 

River’s eyes flitted open as she heard what sounded like faint screams from somewhere outside the room she and Adam were trapped in. Adam still lay across the room. His face was pale and covered in sweat. She rolled onto her back, too weak to stand. It was an extremely unpleasant sensation to feel your body rotting from the inside out. The door behind her slowly opened and she groaned, “Go fuck yourself, Zachariah.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say, sweetheart.” Dean said softly kneeling beside her as he wrapped his arms under her shoulders and knees. 

Her eyes sprang open and she pushed one shaking hand to his chest.“No. Dean it’s a trap. Run.” 

Dean cradled her to his chest and stood up. “I know.”

“Ah, Dean. Right on time.” Zachariah’s sanctimonious, oily smiling face appeared before them. “You didn’t really think it would be that easy did you?”

Dean shook his head. “No. Did you?” He said as Sam burst into thought he door behind Zachariah. The hunter swung an Angel blade at his neck but Zachariah merely flicked his wrist and sent Sam sprawling across the room towards Adam. 

“Now, I have been patient Dean. But now is the time for action,” The Angel raised his hand and River coughed a mouthful of blood onto Dean’s shirt. Adam cried out in pain, curling into a tighter ball against the burn in his stomach.

“You son of a bitch! Let them go!” He yelled. A shudder of pain ran through River and she pushed at Dean’s arms to be let go. He bent down and set River back on the floor where she leaned tiredly against the wall. 

Zachariah chuckled and lazily sat on the table in the center of the room. “I thought I was up for the proverbial pink slip when I failed to reel her in. And in my line of work a firing is pretty damn literal. But the big boss he saw through the fog of my failures and gave me this opportunity.” Sam stirred and slowly pulled himself to his knees. “And everything is playing out…like destiny. You, me, your hemmoraghing family.” He nodded at Sam who began spitting up blood. Dean looked down at his dying family. “You’re finally ready. Aren’t you?” Zachariah asked gently. River wrapped her arms around her stomach and cried silently. 

“Stop! Please. Stop it.” Dean pleaded.

“What will you give me in return?”

Dean clutched his fists helplessly, Sam collapsed back on to his stomach choking on blood, Adam cried out for his mother, River gave up trying to stay upright and slid back to the cool floor. “Damn you, Zachariah. Yes, ok! Yes I’ll do it!”

“Dean! No,” River sobbed. Zachariah gave her a look pure contempt, his nose and forehead crinkled Ike he smelled something dirty. She cried out and retched more dark blood onto the pristine floor. 

Zachariah laughed, “She doesn’t look to good does she?”

Dean didn’t dare look down at her. “You’re a bastard. Call Michael down here and I’ll sign on the dotted line!”

Zachariah stood up and scrutinized Dean. His upper lip shook, and he shifted nervously on his feet as every second that passed was a second closer to Sam, River and Adam bleeding out on the floor in front of him. “How do I know you aren’t lying?” The Angel asked.

Dean waived his arms in frustration. “ Do I look like I’m lying? Let’s do this!”

Zachariah gave a self-congratulating nod and closed his eyes. “He’s on his way. You know Archangels they always have to make a grand entrance.”

“Great,” Dean sighed. “ Now of course I’ve got some stipulations.” 

Zachariah’s smile faltered. “What?”

“Heal them now.”

“Done.” The Angel snapped his finger and the pain and blood was suddenly gone. River let out a shaky breath and crawled towards Sam. 

“They are untouchable. Do you understand? My family is to be protected.” Dean said turning away from Zachariah.

“Fine.”

Dean looked down at Sam, River and Adam and winked. He winked at them like they were hustling a couple of rubes in a pool game and not facing momentary death. The fear and torment that had been clouding his face instantly gone. He was back to being Dean; relaxed, confidant with his bad-boy charm turned to full throttle. River grabbed Sam’s big hand in both of hers as a strange sense of dreadful anticipation made her whole body shake. He turned back towards Zachariah as a high pitched whining vibration rattled the paintings on the wall. “Now of course that’s not all I want-“

“Anything Dean. Anything in all of heaven and Earth is yours. You are The Michael Sword, the vessel of our mightiest warrior. We have waited for you.” Zachariah’s face lit up with maniacal, zealous grin.

“I want Michael to kill you.” Dean said. River’s grip on Sam tightened, she bit her lip to stop from laughing frantically. 

Darkness clouded Zachariah’s zeal. His shrewd eyes narrowed, “Excuse me?”

Dean stepped closer to the Angel. The whole building was shaking now, the vibrations of Michael’s descent rattled through their bones. A high pitched buzzing whine echoed around the room. A dazzling opalescent white light bled through the walls. “You heard me. If Michael wants my sweet ass he has turn you into a piece of charcoal.” The sound of Michale’s voice was becoming painful. Adam clapped his hands over his ears and yelled.

Zachariah laughed and grabbed Dean around the collar. “You really think Michael is going to go for that? After I’ve delivered him to you? Do you know who I am?” He yelled. 

“You think Michael wants a brown nosing assclown thats never seen a real battle or his vessel?” Dean yelled over the deafening rumble. Paintings fell off the walls, priceless vases and statues toppled over.

Zachariah pressed his face closer to Dean, their noses almost touching. “Michael’s not going to kill me. I am his faithful servant!”

“Maybe Michael won’t kill you. But I am.” Dean yelled as he pulled Castiel’s Angel blade from his jacket pocket and stabbed Zachariah through his neck. The Angels let out a gurgled surprised scream before his grace exploded out of his eyes. Dean pushed the dying Angel away from him. His wings left a scorched imprint on the wall behind him. 

River scrambled to her feet pulling Sam with her. “Adam! Move your ass!” She screamed at him. The younger man got unsteadily to his feet, hands still clasped to his ears. Dean grabbed River by her free hand and charged toward the door. Adam suddenly stopped in the middle of the room, Michael’s light completely engulfing him. He stared into it transfixed and nodded as if he had been asked a a question through the roaring. 

Dean pushed River and Sam through the door before turning back to his younger brother. He had all but disappeared in the blinding light. “Adam! Run!” He yelled. The building shook again causing Dean to stagger. He took an unsteady step forward before a hand latched around his arm and yanked him through the door. The door slammed shut a second later trapping Adam in the room. The sound of the door broke Adams trance and he realized he was alone in the room. Michaels voice still filling his head, the light of his immense grace surrounding him but he was suddenly afraid. He ran towards the door but it was sealed shut. “Dean! Sam! Help me!” He yelled frantically banging on the door. 

Dean tried to rush back towards the door but River held him fast. “You can’t get back in! Michael is coming!” She yelled at him. The small inner building gave another great shudder. The light seeping through the boards dazzled them and they staggered back covering their eyes. Then all was silent and dark. Sam opened the door to the room and found nothing but a rotting, empty old office. No sign of the beautiful room, Adam or even Zachariah remained. 

“You think he’s ok?” Dean asked as they left the dank building. The sun light and smoggy air was refreshing. 

“I don’t know.” Sam replied. 

River looked up as another jumbo jet boomed ahead and took a deep breath. “Are we in L.A.?” She asked.

“Van Nuys, Princess.”

“No shit. I know a great Indian place in Van Nuys.” Dean and Sam stopped and turned towards her. “What? I want a mango lassi before the fucking world ends.”

Dean took her hand in his. His calloused thumb rubbing little circles on the back of her hand. He pulled her close, his free hand pulling her face towards him. “I love you.” He murmured against her lips.

“I know.” She answered kissing him.


	57. Chapter 57

Twelve blocks later Dean, River and Sam sat in a warm, brightly lit Indian restaurant called ‘The Samosa’ palace. Dean gave up on trying to order anything and entrusted the other two to get him something edible. After the waitress left their table they descended into a familiar silence; the last few days of high octane emotions draining them. “Cas isn’t answering his phone; hope that stupid son of a bitch didn’t get himself killed.” Dean said somberly. River sat quietly rubbing the finger where Cas’s ring had been. Dean’s hand closed over hers. “Zachariah’s dead. He can’t hurt you again. I don’t think any of the other Angels will be dumb enough to try.”

River nodded. “I just wish I could’ve been the one to stab him in his fucking face…" She pursed her lips. “I don’t even remember the last time I got to bag a bad guy.”

“We’ll save the next one for you.” Dean promised kissing the side of her forehead. 

She turned to face him, placing one hand on his chin. “You stupid jackass, I really thought you were gonna say yes.” Her cheeks burned and eyes stung as she blinked several times trying to stop herself from crying. 

Dean’s hands cupped her face, his callused thumbs wiping at the wet streaks on her cheeks. “I’m not going to say yes. Ever. I swear to you we’ll get the last two rings. We’ll figure out how to use them and we will get Lucifer back in his cage.”

River nodded again and let out a deep breath. “I just...I need a minute or ten. Don’t eat all the naan.” She told Sam as she stood up wiping tears off her face and headed towards the restroom in the back of the restaurant. She returned several minutes later still pale, eyes slightly red and puffy but she smiled when their plates of food were delivered.

“Alright, I’m starving. Which one of these has bacon?” Dean asked.

Sam laughed, “None, dude. This is a vegetarian restaurant. Try the Korma.”

Dean scrunched his face up. “I’m a warrior. I need protein.”

“Good thing broccoli has more protein per pound than beef, huh?” River said laughing as Dean grumbled under his breath. He quieted down after the first few bites savoring the intricate flavors he didn’t usually get at roadside diners in middle America. 

“Alright…it’s pretty good.” He conceded after his third plate. 

“Always trust thick girls when it comes to food.” River told him as she slurped the last of her mango lassi. After finishing their meal she led them to a large parking garage attached to a shopping mall with their choice of cars to hot wire. They made it out of Los Angeles and onto the interstate trying to avoid more populated areas. She tried calling Castiel every few minutes. The phone rang dully before switching to his confused voicemail message. Dean and Sam sat quietly in the front seat, the radio tuned to a classic rock station. 

Dean watched River in the rearview mirror, her eyebrows creased with worry as she stared out the window at the dark, flat landscape. “He’ll show up. Or call. Like he always does.” He said. 

She looked up and met his eyes in the mirror. “And if he doesn’t?” Dean didn’t have an answer.   
“So, what do we do now?” She asked. 

“I’ll call Bobby,” Sam offered. He didn’t answer so they just kept driving. They arrived back at Bobby’s a day later. The older hunter was passed out in his room when the three tiredly trudged inside a little after dawn. River headed directly for the coffee pot. 

“Welcome back,” Bobby drawled rolling into the kitchen after the aroma of fresh coffee woke him from his sleep. The three younger hunters nodded around their cups of coffee. “Hope you three weren’t planning on getting comfortable. I got a list of omens and flu cases poppin’ up ya’ll need to check out.”

River rolled her stiff shoulders and looked down at him. “Bobby, Cas is MIA and we don’t have any frequent flyer miles to get down South.”

“Lucky you, Pestilence seems to be on the move in the states.” He handed Sam a crumpled list of cities and medical clinic names. 

“Son of a bitch. My ass is still numb from the drive back here.” Dean complained.

They spent the next week driving through nine states checking hospitals and clinics. People were sick, some deaths but so far no more than any normal flu season. “You have 30 confirmed cases of the flu. Is that correct doctor?” River asked the emergency room physician. The hunters, dressed in their fed suits and pretending to be epidemiologists from the CDC, were interviewing various hospital staff. They were all wearing paper masks to ward off the potential for contracting the flu from sick patients. The waiting room was full of sniffing, sneezing and coughing people. 

“That’s today’s count; it was ten yesterday.”

“That’s when those statues of the Virgin Mary started bleeding.” Dean muttered.

“Excuse me, did you say bleeding statues?” The doctor asked.

“What? Bleeding statues? That’d be crazy.” Sam laughed nervously. “So no deaths?” He asked quickly scribbling a note on a pad of paper.

The doctor shook her head distractedly while signing a list of orders a nurse handed her. “And of those confirmed cases of the flu, have any of them shown any signs of aggression? Or homicidal tendencies?” Dean asked. The doctor and nurse looked up from their paper work. Their eyes scrutinizing Dean over the masks covering the lower half of their face. River stomped on Dean’s foot causing him to grunt in pain. 

“Such a kidder this guy…” River laughed. “Jeez one too many late night TV movies you know?” The doctor nodded unsurely. “But uhm… Have you seen any symptoms like that?”

The doctor shook her head, “No. This seems like it’s a mild strain of swine flu. It’s extremely contagious, the very young and very old at the most risk... look we need the vaccine. So do us a favor and go back to your bosses in D.C and tell them to quit with the red tape on the Malphas vaccine.”

River sighed tiredly and kicked her uncomfortable shoes off the moment they were back in the Impala. “Where the hell did that son of a bitch go? We had statutes of the Virgin Mary crying blood 72 hours ago, then the first case of the flu and now thirty some cases and no god damn sign of Pestilence.” She grumbled as Dean drove away from the small Pahrump medical center.

“I don’t know. I’m gonna call Bobby.” Sam answered pulling out his cellphone. River nodded and grabbed the laptop out of her duffle bag.

Dean rubbed his eyebrows and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Do we have enough cash for two rooms?” He asked looking over his shoulder at River where she sat tucked in the backseat behind Sam; too much travel, too much time crammed together in the car and not enough down time between cases to even get laid was making Dean a little extra cranky.

She shook her head, “Nope. Barely had enough for that roach motel two nights ago.” Dean cursed under his breath. He and River had lost rock, paper, scissors to Sam who got to spend the night on the one odiferous bed while they curled together on the floor sharing a sleeping bag. 

“Hey, Bobby. Yeah we got nothing.” Sam said holding his finger to his lips in a silent ‘shhh’ to River and Dean so they could hear Bobby over the speaker. “We’re sure Pestilence touched down here. But he’s gone now.”

There was rustling from Bobby’s side of the call, “Well. Looks like he’s still headed East so head East.”

“Bobby we’re in West fucking Nevada there is nothing else but East,” River said loudly from the backseat. “This is…we have no idea where he’ll be next. We’re spinning wheels and going fucking nowhere. We need a better plan than this.” 

“I may have a plan.” Crowley said popping into the empty seat next to River. She let out a startled scream and swung her laptop at the Demon. He grunted as it smashed into pieces against his face. Dean almost swerved the Impala off the deserted road as River kept screaming obscenities at the Demon. Sam dropped his phone and yanked Ruby’s knife out of his jacket. With one long arm he pushed River further against the far side of the seat and stabbed the knife towards Crowley with the other. The knife slashed through empty air and tore into the vinyl seat.

“Did you get him?” Dean bellowed as he finally got the swerving car back under control and slammed on the brakes.

“No. He’s gone!” River yelled. 

‘Tap-Tap-Tap’. Someone rapped their knuckles on the driver side window. “Fancy a fag and a chat?” Crowley drawled. The hunters were out of the car and swarming towards the demon an instant later. Sam swung the knife back and forth as Crowley skipped backwards. River pulled the slide back on her pistol and trained it on him. “I can see that you’re upset. We should talk…not here of course.”

“You son of a bitch! You wanna talk? After what you did to us?” Dean yelled.

“After what I did?” Crowley asked, his voice rising with indignation. “I gave you the Colt!”

“Which you knew wouldn’t work against the Devil!” Sam bellowed swinging the knife at him again. 

“I never!” Crowley shouted as he disappeared causing Sam to stagger forwards. 

“Son of a bitch!” Dean grumbled. 

Crowley reappeared on the other side of the car. “I had no idea it wouldn’t work!”

“We lost people on that suicide mission! Our friends! River almost died! You told that fuck Harob where she’d be!” Dean yelled.

“I did not!” Crowley yelled again. “But thank you for killing him. I’ve been trying for centuries to find that git. Lilith was up my ass for letting him escape-“

River screamed in anger and fired three quick shots at Crowley’s chest, “He killed my friend! He fucking tortured me!”

Crowley looked down at his ruined shirt poking his fingers through the bullet holes. “That’s just dandy! You know I can’t just pop into the corner shop and pick up another of these custom dress shirts! You want to know why?”

“I’m all ears you black eyed asshole!” River yelled back.

Crowley blinked and showed her his red eyes. “First off, crumpet, I’m King of the Crossroads. Not some low level, bottom feeding grunt! Secondly, Lucifer knows I’m the one that gave you the bloody Colt. I’ve been on the lam hiding under rocks like a bloody salamander for months! He’s sent his black eyed, bottom feeding grunts after me! They ate my bloody tailor! They burned down my house!”

“Cry us a fucking river!” Sam yelled sliding across the hood of Baby and jumping towards him. Crowley stepped back and disappeared again.

“ I thought the Colt would work. It was an honest mistake!” He said calmly reappearing next to Dean. “I want the Devil dead. Nothing has changed. Call your dogs off so we can talk.” River spun around whipping her pistol towards the demon. Crowley stepped behind Dean and River dropped the gun growling in frustration. 

Dean turned towards him, holding a hand up to River and Sam. “Give me one good reason.”

“I can give you Pestilence.” He answered. River gave a huff of disbelief. “The deal is the same. We’re all in this sinking ship together. Now you can continue driving aimlessly while Lucifer and Michael prepare for Armageddon or,” He took a deep breath and glared at River and Sam who had inched forward. “You can meet me here and we’ll discuss how to get the last two rings from the Horsemen whilst not under a bloody search light!” He yelled tossing a note to Dean and pointing at the one lone street light causing it to explode in a shower of electric sparks before disappearing. Dean looked at the coordinates on the paper then to his brother and River.

“Dean you cannot honestly be considering listening to him again?” Sam asked. 

Dean raised his eyebrows, “You got a better plan?” River ran her hands tiredly through her hair before twisting it out of her face and walking silently back to the car. She was gathering the fragments of her shattered laptop when Sam and Dean got in the car.

They arrived at the coordinates a few hours later. A dingy, weather-beaten abandoned cabin straight out of a Sam Raimi film loomed in the darkness. “Nobody read anything out loud from any creepy books Crowley’s got laying around in there, ok?” River said as they met the Demon on what remained of the front porch.

“Welcome to my less than humble abode.” He said pushing the door open on it rusted hinges. “I know this is probably a step up from the flea infested hovels you usually sleep in but…” Crowley clicked his tongue in disgust. “How the mighty have fallen…”

“Cut the shit Crowley.” Dean said. “How do you know about the Horsemen’s rings?”

The Demon smiled slyly. “I’ve keeping a close eye on you lot.”

“We got hex bags. We’re hidden from demons.” River said.

“All but one crumpet.” Crowley said pointing at himself. River rolled her eyes at her apparent new nickname. “That night you broke into my home; A few of my boys distracted your Angel friend long enough to hide a tracking device in your car. A magical coin that easily trumps those little bags of yours.” River shook her head in annoyance; no matter what they did some dickbag was always a step ahead. “Lets me hear things too. The things I’ve heard…” Crowley raised his eyebrows lasciviously and gave her a knowing smile. “I do hope you two disinfect the back seat when you’re done.” Her cheeks flushed in anger as River balled her hands into fists and stepped towards the smug demon. “Now, now love…I’ve heard other things as well. You lot want to stuff the devil back in his box and I want in. You need the Horseman’s rings, right?”

Dean briefly met Sam and Rivers eyes. “You said you could give us Pestilence.”

“Well, I don’t know where Pestilence is exactly-“ Crowley said turning on his heel.

“I fucking knew it. Where’s the Colt?” River said.

Crowley quickly spun back towards them, his hands held up. “I don’t know where the big man is but- I know the demon that does. He’s the stable boy for Pestilence. He handles the day to day itineraries. He’s the demon you want. Believe me.”

“Say we believe you. How are we gonna get him to talk?” River asked. “Ask nicely? Pull his fingernails out? I left my pliers at Bobby’s.”

“We bring him here and I seal the deal.” Crowley said folding his hands behind his back. The hunters looked at him doubtfully. “I’ve been selling sins to saints for centuries. I can close this demon deal. I’ll simply make him an offer he can’t refuse.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and looked at River. She nodded once. What other choice did they have? They hadn’t heard from Castiel. They were running out of leads and time. “Where do we find him?” 

Crowley told them he was go to do a little recon and disappeared from the cabin. The hunters checked and reloaded their weapons to pass time. “Why are we trusting him?” Sam asked.

“Because this is the only lead we’ve got.” River answered.

“Ready?” Dean asked as Crowley reappeared. River and Sam shared a look of disdain as they tucked their guns into their jackets.

“Yes I am.” He answered. “Moose, Crumpet keep the hearth warm for us.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Demon?” River asked.

“You two aren’t coming.”

“Fuck you, yes we are.” She retorted.

Crowley shook his head. “You hit me in the bloody face and ruined my favorite shirt.” He said pointing at River. “ And that one keeps trying to stab me. I honestly don’t like either one of you and I definitely don’t trust you. I’m the only one here who knows where to find this demon. So you play by my rules or I’m taking my toys and going home.”

“You know what, you fucking assface demon-“ River started before Dean put his hand on her arm.

“Fine.” Dean said walking towards Crowley.

River huffed in anger. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She yelled at Dean as he and Crowley left the cabin and headed towards the car. After spending the next several minutes kicking holes into the termite riddled walls she slumped onto the couch next to the fire. She tried not to think too hard how the poor couch had probably been abused by countless horny teenagers as she settled into its musty cushions.

Sam sat down next to her and handed off a bottle of whiskey he’d had stashed in his duffle bag. “Fucking assholes.” He muttered. River nodded and took a long drink from the bottle. They spent the next hour in bitchy companionship complaining about Dean and drinking. 

“It’s not like the bullets even hurt him-“ River grumbled half asleep. Between the warmth of the fire, exhaustion and the bottle of alcohol Sam kept passing to her, River soon fell asleep curled up on the mildewy couch. Sam stared at for several long seconds after she’d nodded off before leaving the room to call Bobby. He needed to discuss something with the older hunter. 

“Yeah Bobby. Then he just walks out the door with that demon. This is crazy,” Sam sighed after catching Bobby up in the latest turn of events. By this time it had been a few hours since Dean and Crowley went to round up the potential informant.

“Well, we’ve had months of zilch. And yeah this is crazy and I don’t trust demons but…maybe it’s time to get a little crazy.” Bobby answered. “At least we got Dean back from the ledge…”

Sam took another drink and looked over his shoulder at River, who had shifted in her sleep. “Bobby, remember that time you were possessed?”

Bobby laughed, “Yeah. It rings a bell.”

“How did you uhh…how did you resist? When Meg told you to kill Dean, you fought back. You got control of your body. How?”

“Why you askin’ me this, son?” Bobby asked. 

Sam took a deep breath and set the now empty bottle of whiskey down on the table. “Say we get the rings. We put the lock back together and then what? We lead Satan to the edge and hope he falls in?”

“I don’t know…” Bobby conceded. 

“Well, what if…you guys lead the Devil to the edge and I jump in?” Sam said quickly before his nerve left him. 

“What!” Bobby and River, who had stirred awake at the least opportune moment, yelled. Sam turned towards her, mentally cursing himself. 

“Listen to me. This is the only way-“

“Oh not with that shit, again! Fucking Winchesters!” River yelled standing up. 

“You listen to me son, what I did was a one in a million. I don’t even know how I did it. You’re talkin’ about over powering Satan himself. It can’t be done!” Bobby said. “He will find every chink in your armor and use it against you.”

Sam shook his head and looked at River. “I’m not gonna do anything unless we’re all on board. It’s just…it’s something to think about. Bobby I gotta go.” He hung up before Bobby could argue. “River-“

“No. I will not let you do this. Dean will never let you do this. You are talking about willfully being possessed by Lucifer. If his grace doesn’t disintegrate you,” She poked his forehead angrily. “How are you gonna fight him off long enough to get control back?”

“I don’t know.” Sam answered. “I guess I’ll figure it out.”

River threw her arms up, “You’ll figure it out? And then what? You’re gonna jump in the fucking pit while Lucifer’s tethered to you?”

“Yeah. If that’s what needs to be done. I’ll do it!” Sam stood up putting his hands on her shoulders. “I’m strong enough to do this.”

River shook her head wiping at the tears that had started rolling down her cheeks. “I’m so fucking sick of you two making me cry.” She mumbled as the Impala rumbled to a stop outside.

“You cry because you have too many girl parts.” Sam said smiling.

“Your brother likes my girl parts,” she retorted. “Dean’s gonna kick your ass for even considering this.” The front door was thrown open, followed by the sounds of a struggle, Dean cursing and then another door slamming shut. 

“Don’t say anything to Dean.” Sam said quickly.

“I’m not gonna lie to him.” 

“I’m not saying lie to him. Just don’t say anything to him about this until I’m ready.”

“Am I interrupting a secret lover’s scandalous tryst?” Crowley asked from the doorway. 

River sighed heavily and wiped her face before turning to face the Demon. “What can I say? Flannel clad giants get me all hot and bothered. Where’s Dean?”

“Down the hall...I told him not to come back here. Not with our package, anyways. Negotiating a high level defection is tricky business. And what we don’t need is interference from someone who can’t keep their head straight.”

“I promise I won’t shoot you again. Unless you deserve it.” River said giving him a fuck-you smile.

“I’m not worried about you, crumpet. You’ve got no idea what you’re about to get in the middle of.”

“The hell are you talking about?” Sam demanded.

Crowley shook his head, “Go ahead. Go in there and ruin the only chance we have of finding Pestilence.” Sam scoffed at the demon and followed River to the back of the cabin where they heard Dean slamming doors. 

“D, what happened to your face?” River asked as Dean turned towards them shutting the door behind him. Half his face was caked in sticky blood and he had a bruise under his left eye.

“I’m good. It’s nothing.” He reassured her. Someone groaned in pain from the room behind him. 

“Is that that the guy?” Sam asked nodding towards the closed door. 

Dean nodded and ran his hand along his jaw. “Listen before we go in there I need you to remember what’s at stake here.” He said to his younger brother. “I’m trusting you.”

“What kind of game are you and Crowley-“

“Sam...Sam Winchester is that you ?” The muffled voice that echoed from the next room stopped him cold. The familiarity of the voice was frightening, calling him back to a time when he could pretend there weren’t monsters and demons hiding in the dark. 

“Who...who is that?” Sam stuttered trying to push past his older brother.

Dean held his ground. “Listen to me god damn it! I need you to stay on mission here.” 

“Sammy! Get those long sexy legs in here!” The demon cajoled. 

“No…no.” Sam said as the voice suddenly found its way to the face he had buried in his memory. He grabbed his brother by the shirt and tossed him aside where he crashed into River sending them both into the nearest wall. 

“Ow, son of a bitch-what the shit, Sam!” River yelled at him as he wrenched the door open to face the man inside. A young blonde man sat tied to a chair in the middle of a hastily painted devils’ trap. Rivulets of blood dripped down his face where Crowley had beaten him unconscious with a crowbar but he smiled brightly through perfectly capped blood-stained teeth when Sam slid into the room.

“Hey Sam! Long time no see bud!”

Sam whole body shook as anger and disbelief crowded out rational thought. “Brady?” He ground out through gritted teeth. Brady had been one of his best friends from Stanford. They had met in an LSAT study group. They had gone on bar crawls together, celebrated mid-terms, gone to their fair share of Sorority parties; then Brady had introduced him to Jess. The moment Sam had laid eyes on her it was over; she was his perfect opposite, his beautiful mistake, without a doubt the love of his life. He’d never wanted or loved anything as much as he did her.

The demon that was wearing Brady’s meatsuit smiled. “Oh, Brady hasn’t been Brady in a looonnngg time.” The Demon drew out each syllable, eyes flicking to black as River and Dean stood shoulder to shoulder with Sam. “Jeez, what was it? The middle of Sophomore year… you remember, Sam; when Brady, I mean I, spiraled way, way, way down. Started flunking classes, snorting coke, all those skanky bitches…I was gonna drop outta Stanford and you got me back on track. You saved me!” The demon threw his head back and cackled.

“You son of a bitch!” Sam roared charging towards the demon. River and Dean each grabbed an arm to hold him back. He continued screaming in anger and tried throwing the two of them off. “You were my friend! You introduced me to Jess!”

“Yep. That was me. You had a little demon on your shoulder even way back then!” 

Sam roared in anger, pulling towards the bloody demon tied to the chair. At times like this it was easy for River to forget how strong and physically intimidating the Winchesters were. She thought of them as cranky, denim wearing, monster killing teddy bears. They were her family; two of the men she loved most in the entire world despite their faults. In reality they were anything but teddy bears; both being well over average in height, towering over her and almost everyone else. Decades of hunting had honed their bodies into lean, hard muscle. Sam had thrown her around on more than one occasion, even hit her when under the influence of demon blood and he was nearly as out of control right now. Anger blinded him as he flailed his arm particularly rough and sent her stumbling off of him and into a rotten chest of drawers. Brady sniggered gleefully as she struggled to her feet and pulled a long, sharp splinter out of her arm. “Ok enough!” Dean yelled as Sam tried to shove him away. 

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Sam snarled trying to rush towards Brady. Dean ducked Sam's free arm and came up swinging a right hook into his brothers jaw. Sam staggered back towards the door and Dean took the opening to push him further into the hallway. River glared at the laughing Demon as she picked up a broken plank of wood leaning against the wall. She knocked the demon savagely in the side of the head with the wood causing him to stop his laughing and spit out a few teeth.

“Keep laughing you dickass broheim. I got a pair of pliers and a carton of Mortons with your name on it.” She called over her shoulder as she slammed the door shut. Dean had dragged Sam down the hall back towards the front of the cabin. 

“God damn it! Let me go, Dean! I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch-“ Sam yelled finally pushing Dean away.

Dean stood in front of him, “Listen to me! There is one way we can win and it is not by killing that thing in there!” River pushed past both of them, leaving a spotted trail of blood dripping down her forearm onto the dirty wood floor. 

“Shit Riv, I’m sorry-“ Sam told her as she angrily rolled the sleeve up on her shirt to inspect the wound. She flipped him of with her good hand before she pressed an old dirty rag to her arm to the stop the bleeding. 

“Sam-“ She started but was interrupted when Brady started singing “You give love a bad name” loudly and off-key. “Fucking demons.” She muttered mostly to herself as the frat boy reject butchered Bon Jovi.

Crowley appeared behind them clicking his tongue. “Brilliant. Sounds like you got ‘im nice and fluffed for me.” The Demon puckered his lips in annoyance before walking down the hallway. 

“Sam, we need that pile of shit. We need him to get to Pestilence.” Dean told his younger brother as Crowley threw the door open with a dramatic flourish. 

“Why? Because Crowley says so? Because we’re trusting Demons again? Like I trusted Ruby?” Sam demanded.

“Because this is the only god damn lead we have! We have a week, if we’re lucky, until the world ends!” River finally yelled. “ We don’t have any other fucking options!” Sam glared at her, working his jaw tightly back and forth before storming off and slamming the front door of the cabin so hard it finally fell off its rusted hinges. Brady stopped singing for the moment leaving the cabin suddenly quiet except for an occasional groan as it settled on its uneven foundation. 

“You wanna have angry sex?” Dean asked after several moments of heavy silence. 

River laughed and chewed her bottom lip. “For once I’m not angry at you.”

“Yeah but you’re still angry.” He countered. “Baby’s lonely out there in the cold. Let’s go keep her company.”

“I’m not fucking in that car again until we find Crowley’s LoJack.”

He sighed and ran a hand along his jaw. “Plenty of room in here. Sammy’s outside cooling off...” Dean trailed off waggling his eyebrows at her.

River shook her head. “I’m not getting naked in here; it’s gross even by our standards-“

Dean slid his hands around her backside taking a double handful of ass. “You don’t have to get all the way naked.” 

She laughed again and rolled her eyes. “Wow, so interested now.” 

He removed one hand from her ass and tangled it in her hair tilting her head up so he could brush his lips against hers. “That doesn’t sound like a no.”

“Don’t let the end of the bloody world interrupt your sexual proclivities.” Crowley drawled disinterestedly reappearing before them. 

“Sealed the deal already you eavesdropping asshole?” River asked.

Crowley straightened the lapels of his wrinkle free suit jacket. “He won’t budge. Seems my usual tactics aren’t going to crack him….Wish me luck.” He said turning away from them.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean asked.

Crowley let out a heavy sigh. “It means, I’m going to go kick a demon hive. I’m putting my neck on the line for you ungrateful lot. Again.” He ran his hand through his thinning hair looking slightly worried. “I hope this plan of yours with the rings actually works.” He said before he disappeared leaving behind the faint stench of burnt sulfur in his wake. 

“Asshole.” Dean muttered as he sat down on the stained couch.

River laughed, “I thought that asshole was your new bestie.” 

Dean scowled up at her before pulling her onto his lap so she leaned her back into his warm chest. “Where were we?” He whispered causing her to shiver and squirm as he wrapped his arms around her. One hand trailing along her stomach until his thumb slipped under the band of her pants while sliding the opposite hand up her chest to her throat tilting her head back so could kiss her again. 

His lips met hers more forcefully this time as he danced his tongue along her lower lip before slipping inside her warm mouth. A little moan of pleasure escaped her as she rocked her ass against the growing bulge in his jeans while he kissed a trail down her jaw to the pulse point below her ear distracting her from the hand that was slipping under her panties before she had time to change her mind. Brady started singing his loud, out of tune nasally rendition of “Here I Go Again” just as Dean slid his fingers through her warm folds. “Whats with the hair metal-oh fuck-” River sighed as her body melted against Dean’s touch. Brady’s annoying voice disappeared into the background as they tuned him out and focused on each other. Her thighs trembled and hips rocked against his teasing fingers. “If I get a rash on my bits and pieces because of this groady demon murder house I’m gonna kick your ass,” she murmured letting her head fall back against his shoulder.

Dean took that as consent and sat up maneuvering them on the couch so her could lay her down under him. “I’m willing to take that risk.” He leaned down to kiss her again while she worked on pushing his jeans off his hips freeing his erection. She ran her hand along his length and he lazily thrust his hips relishing the feeling of her skin on his even if it wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be.

Sam, with his usual impeccable timing, stormed back in the house kicking the broken door out of his way. “Fuck off, Sammy!” Dean yelled over his shoulder as River squeaked in embarrassed surprise trying to hide herself under him. Sam ignored them and blazed down the hallway back towards the singing Demon. 

“Hey, Sam! You’re back! You remember that bar near Stanford with ‘Butt-Rock Thursdays’?” Brady said taking a deep breath while he decided on the next awful song to start singing. “Man, I miss that place. It blew up a couple months after you hit the road with big bro….something about unauthorized pyrotechnics and a gas leak that I might have started.”

“Dean get off!” River yelled pushing Dean off of her. “Sam! Don’t!” Dean stumbled backwards off the couch, tripping over his pants as River jumped over him buttoning her own jeans and running towards Sam. She had a quick look at Sam’s back and the sick, expectant smile Brady had plastered on his face before the door slammed shut. Sam slid a chair under the doorknob just as River tried shouldering her way inside. She slammed her fists off the door as Dean slid to her side wrapping his hands around the rusted knob. 

“Sam! Open the god dam door! We need him!” Dean yelled. Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath before glaring down at Brady. He pulled Ruby’s knife out from the his jacket and stalked towards his former friend. 

Brady sneered up at him. “Finally. Let’s get this party started.”

Sam remained silent gathering his thoughts. “Why Brady?” He finally asked.

The Demon shrugged his shoulders. “You were getting too comfortable. It was so easy for you to let go of your father, your brother, the hunting….you were growing soft. Becoming a worthless sack of mild mannered piss. And we couldn’t have that! Azazel, ol’ Yellow Eyes himself sent me topside to get you back on the right path. You were always his favorite.” Sam worked his jaw back and forth, ignoring his brother and River’s yells and hammering at the door. “You took poor, misguided Brady under your wing. Brought me back from the edge and I repaid you by hooking you up with that sweet, innocent…virginal piece of tail. You know before Jess met you she was going to wait for marriage like the good girl she was-“ Sam shot forward, slicing Brady across the face with the demon knife. He hissed in pain as the knife burned through his skin. “God she was something wasn’t she? Right up until the minute I gutted her and roasted her on the ceiling. Yeah buddy it was me. Azazel put the hit out on that tight little piece of ass but I’m the one that did the deed.” Sam’s fingers tightened around the knife as Brady continued his confession. “She thought we were friends, let me right in. She had just baked cookies, chocolate chip. Your favorite…she screamed for you when I started in on her-“ Sam stabbed the knife forward again, catching Brady in the opposite cheek this time giving him a grotesque Joker’s smile. Instead of screaming in pain the demon laughed, spitting a mouthful of blood onto Sam’s shirt. “Do it Sammy! Do it! Give in to all that anger and hate!”

“Sam! We need him! We have to find Pestilence.” River cried through the door. 

His hands shook as he struggled against the need to destroy the demon in front of him. “Sam, please open the god damned door!” His brothers voice broke through thundering pulse echoing in his ears. 

 

“Alright! Relax!” He yelled backing away from Brady. He moved the chair away from the door and opened it to face his brother and River. “He’s fine…mostly“ Sam muttered as they pushed past him to check the laughing, mutilated demon tied to the chair. 

“Get him to dish on his boss, Moose?” Crowley asked reappearing in the dank room. He took one look at Brady’s sliced face then back to Sam. “Guess not…don’t worry though Brady. Because you my dear friend are going to live forever.”

“What are you talking about Crowley?” Brady slurred through bloodied lips.

“Went over to a Demon’s nest-Had my self a bit of a massacre. Ripped a couple dozen of those little toads to shreds…” He said pulling a silk handkerchief out his pocket and daintily wiping at the speckles of blood staining his pale face. “Must be loosing my touch though, Crumpet.” Crowley turned towards River giving her a wry grin. “One of those little toads slipped right through my fingers, got away…but not before I may have made it seem like you left your post last night, Brady.” Brady’s mouth disappeared into a thin line. “I may have also made it seem like you and I are wait for it….-Lovers in league against Satan.”

 

River gave the blonde demon a wide smile and belted out, “Ain’t looking for nothin’ but a good time/ And it don’t get better than this.” Dean and Sam looked down at her gleefully singing then back to the demons.

Crowley nodded and turned back to Brady who had grown several shades paler as he foresaw his carefully built empire crumbling. “Yes, well now it seems like death is off the table for you, love of my life, and you’re officially on the list for eternal torment right alongside me.”

Brady shook his head from side to side. “No. No. No. No.”

“Yes, yes, yes Love.” Crowley answered taking a step closer to the other demon. The toes of his Italian loafers a millimeter away from the painted Devils trap. “You and I have quite a bit in common besides our scandalous carnal passion for one another and impeccable fashion sense. It’s that craven penchant for self-preservation. So, why don’t you tell us where Pestilence is at?”

Brady shook his head again, his face contorted in a hateful sneer as he looked at the hunters and the demon traitor. “Crowley, you son of a bi-“ He was cut off when the bone chilling howl echoed from the woods outside the cabin. 

“Was that-“ River asked quietly.

Dean ran to one of the dirty windows looking frantically outside as another howl and snarling sounded from the darkness much closer this time. He jumped away from the window. “That’s a Hellhound, Crowley. Why is there a Hellhound out there?”

Crowley’s eyebrows drew together as the snarling sounded right outside the cabin walls. “I don’t-Oh.” He ran his fingers along the sleeves of his jacket and found a small coin. He held it up to the dim light and sighed.

“What the hell is that?” Sam asked.

Crowley flicked it to him. “Remember that clever little tracking device I told you about? Looks like one was planted on me.”

“Are you saying a fucking Hellhound followed you here?” River yelled. Brady let out a low pitched mewl as the Hellhound sniffed and scratched the dirt outside.

“Well, technically it followed that,” Crowley said pointing at the coin Sam held. Sam tossed the coin away into a dark corner of the cabin.

“Ok! Get me the hell out of here and I’ll tell you what you want!” Brady said pulling at the ropes around his wrists.

“We need to go now. Grab that fuck and get to the car,” River said.

Crowley shook his head, “Sorry Crumpet. Nobody knows more about the Hounds than I do and it’s too late to run.” He disappeared without another word. 

“Damn it!” Dean yelled.

“I told you!” Sam countered.

Dean turned towards his younger brother. “Well good for you!” They were quickly dissolving into an immature sibling argument when boards on the front porch creaked loudly under the weight of the Hellhound.

“Shut the fuck up both of you!” River yelled. “There’s salt in the kitchen. I’ll get that. You two cover him!” 

“Cover me? Get me the hell out of here!” Brady whined as River ran towards the front of the cabin. The boarded up window in the kitchen exploded inwards in a shower of flying glass and snarls. She screamed darting around the hulking growling shadow that landed on the wood table causing it to snap under its massive weight. 

“River!” Dean yelled running towards her. The Hellhound howled as she swiped her shotgun off the floor and ran back down the hallway towards him. “Get down!” He yelled as the Hellhound skirted around the corner, invisible jaws snapping shut inches from River’s boots. She dove to the ground, sliding on her belly like a runner headed for home base as Dean’s shotgun blasted above her. The Hellhound yipped in pain, black blood splashing high up on the wall where the rock-salt shell tore into it. He hooked one hand under her arm and drug them both back into the room with Sam and Brady. The Demon had dissolved into hysterical snivels. Sam cast him one disgusted look and went for the ropes tying him to the chair.

“Get me out of here!” Brady cried again. 

“Shut the fuck up Broheim!” River yelled at him as she and Dean tracked the minute clouds of dust kicked up by the Hellhounds heavy paws as it thudded towards them. They fired their shotguns together hitting the Hellhound again earning an enraged growl from the invisible monster. They took a step back, each reaching into their pockets for more shells.

“Fucking do something.” Brady yelled. “I’m not gonna die because of you fucking assholes!” 

“Nobodies going to die,” Crowley hollered over the Hellhounds growls. He reappeared on the far end of the hallway behind the Demon dog. “Not yet anyways."

“You came back?” Dean asked surprised. The Hellhound snarled and lunged towards him, River fired her shotgun at the invisible mass sending it smashing into the wall.

“Of course I came back! I’m invested.” He answered. River wrapped one hand around Dean’s shoulder and pulled him several feet away from the bloody dent in the wall where the Hellhound was surely getting to its feet. “Hey!” Crowley yelled then pursed his lips and blew a high pitched whistle. “Stay!” The Hellhound barked once, the floor creaking as it turned towards the Demon. 

“You can control them?” River yelled at him.

Crowley smiled, “Not that one.” He patted the air at his shoulder level, his hand hitting something solid but invisible to them. “I brought my own. And who’s a good girl? Who’s a good girl?” He cooed at the invisible thing next to him. A wet slurp answered him and he grimaced. “Uggh Hellhound drool. Sic him, girl!” He commanded. The entire cabin groaned under the weight of the beast Crowley had summoned, giant claws tore into the wooden floors as his Hound loped towards the other beast. The dogs met in a crash of broken furniture, putrid black blood splashing onto the walls. 

“Time to go boys!” River yelled. 

Brady tried to run but bounced back still stuck in the Devils Trap. “You can’t leave me here!” He screamed in a high pitched warble as the fighting monsters collided into something glass in the next room. Sam cut through the red paint freeing the Demon. The Hunters and their Demon charge ran, avoiding the two Hellhounds still savagely fighting and destroying the cabin in the process.

“I’ll bet a $1000 my pup wins." Crowley said appearing besides the Impala as they jumped inside.

“Scoot over Samsquatch. I’m not sitting next to those assholes.” River said sliding into the middle of the front seat. 

Dean strong armed Brady into the backseat where Crowley now sat smiling expectantly at him. “Hello my love.” He said wrapping his hand around Brady. “Just so you don’t try to run off.” Brady glared at the pale, well manicured hand latched onto his. The Impala roared to life and Dean sped them away from the cabin. He didn’t stop driving until they found a quiet alley in the city seventy-five miles from Crowleys cabin. 

“I’m sure Pestilence will be there.” Brady said handing Crowley a slip of paper he had written an address on. 

Crowley glanced at the note then back to Brady. “He’s telling the truth.” He said handing the paper to Dean. “You’ve got no reason to lie. Have you? You’re in my boat now.”

Brady sneered at him. “You screwed me. For eternity.”

“No, love. You won’t last that long.” He told Brady before walking away. River walked across the length of the alley, laying a line of road salt. She paused looking up at the demon. “For you, Crumpet,” he stepped around the salt and held out an ancient rough edged coin. She poured the last few feet of salt creating a demon proof barrier between them and Dean, Sam and Brady. “If you get tired of that lumbering oaf I’m just a summoning away. And if I maybe crass for just a moment you do make the most sinful noises.”

River snatched the coin out of his hand, “Go now before I shoot you again.”

Crowley nodded. “Yes. Well, I’m sure we’ll be in touch either way.” Dean and Sam conversed quietly both staring at the blonde demon.

“What is this?” Brady yelled.

Dean smiled and tucked his hands in the pockets of his jacket, “All those Angels, All those Demons, all those sons of bitches they just don’t get it do they, Sammy?”

“No, Dean. I don’t think they do.” Sam answered.

“You see, Brady. We’re the ones you should be afraid of.”

River dropped Crowleys tracking coin down a sewer grate and walked back towards the Impala singing Lita Fords ‘Kiss Me Deadly’, “Went to a party last Saturday night/ I didn’t get laid I got in a fight...”

Dean clapped his brother on the shoulder, “I’m gonna go see if she’ll let me rectify that. You think you can keep yourself and Brady occupied?” Sam nodded and stepped towards Brady, his hand disappearing into the folds of his jacket retrieving the demon knife. The Demon took an involuntary step back hitting the brick wall behind him. 

“I bet this is a real moment for you isn’t it, big guy?” Brady mocked him. “Gonna make you feel all better for all the times we yanked your chain?”

Sam walked calmly forward, the knife gripped tightly in his hand. “It’s a start.”

Dean barely got to second base before Sam rapped his knuckles on the window next to River. He growled in frustration, one hand still massaging her breast. “Son of a bitch.”

“I think blue balls is going to kill you before the Apocalypse does,” River said smiling against his lips.


	58. Chaper 58

According to the information provided by the now deceased demon Brady they had a little less than 24 hours before Pestilence would be expected at his next location. Dean decided their best option was to lay low for a few hours, get some shut-eye, decompress a bit, then go gank the Horseman. So they headed for the town adjacent to the one Pestilence was supposed to be at trying to avoid triggering any Demonic security alarms. Sam was quiet and pensive for the drive; he even volunteered to ride in the backseat, earbuds in and music turned up effectively blockading any of their questions about what transpired between him and the demon that used to be his friend. River and Dean gave him what little space they could in the cramped quarters of the car.

“I need a new laptop.” River sighed setting her duffel bag on the floorboards between her feet remembering she had smashed her trusty computer against Crowley’s face.

“I don’t really think it’s in the budget right now. Just borrow Sam’s.”

“Budget? That’s grown-up talk.” She smiled at him. “Besides, Sam won’t let me use his laptop anymore.” 

“What’d you do?” He asked smirking at her.

She glanced over her shoulder at Sam, who was seemingly asleep with his eyes closed. “I messed with his Pornhub settings. I changed all his favorites to Furries and bukaki. ” 

Dean threw his head back and laughed. “Oh that’s good. He’s always been into the real classy shit with plots and acting.”

“I know. I went through his history. Kenny G music, candle lit dinners. So boring…” River said. Dean looked across the seat at her. Staring at her instead of the road for several long seconds. She’d slipped into their life so easily, fitting in instead of pushing him and his brother apart. She smiled nervously. “What? Sammy started it. He used the last of my shampoo and put the empty bottle back in my bag. So when I called him out on his bullshit the petty bitch put a pair of his smelly ass socks in the bottom of my duffle bag. I had to wash all my clothes three times to get his stink out of them.” 

“Marry me.” Dean said suddenly.

It was River’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, ok hot stuff. Just as soon as we stop the Apocalypse.”

When they finally found a cheap motel with only one obvious trick being turned in the parking lot they booked a room for a few hours. Dean and River collapsed onto the small bed in an exhausted, fully clothed tangle. After a solid six hours of sleep she successfully untangled herself from Dean’s various limbs and snuck into the shower without waking him or Sam, who slept on the couch across the room. The hot water and vanilla scented body wash helped erase the lingering stench of sulfur and rot she felt had followed her from Crowleys cabin. By the time she finished getting dressed in the small, foggy bathroom the sounds of the Winchesters arguing echoed on the other side of the door. “No. Don’t ‘Dean’ me!” Dean yelled angrily. “You have had some stupid ideas but this…”

River quietly exited the bathroom rubbing her damp hair with a towel. “Did you know?” Dean asked jabbing a finger towards her as she tried to sneak past him to the coffee pot.

“Hmmm?” She mumbled pouring a cup of coffee and dreading the swirling argument she was getting pulled into.

“Sam’s brilliant plan to let the Devil ride his carcass?”

“Oh yeah. That. He may have mentioned it…” River said quietly avoiding Dean’s angry glare.   
“We have no idea how to get Satan back in the pit and this is just an idea. A stupid idea because that seems to be the only kind we can come up with. It just…came up like a nuclear-fucking-option.”

“So you guys have been planning this being my back?” He yelled.

“No. There is no plan. It’s a ‘what if’ ; what if we actually get all the rings, then what? How do we get the cage open? How do we get Lucifer back In it? I can do this. I can get back him back into the cage.” Sam said.

“It’s not like the Super Friends had a secret meeting at the Hall of Justice without you Aquaman. Relax.” River told Dean who started angrily pacing the small room; his boots stomping on the threadbare carpet.

“Relax? I’m gonna kick your ass.“ Dean pointed at each of them. “I’m gonna kick both your asses.”

River looked across the room at Sam who rolled his eyes at Dean’s temper tantrum. “So hot stuff, you want us to get in line so you can kick our asses in succession or is it gonna be more like a Royal Rumble? Staggered entrances, you gotta toss us over the top rope, last man standing gets a big shiny belt?”

“You wanna rumble let’s rumble. You’re first sweetheart.” Dean threatened.

“Oohhh I’m scared the short Winchester’s gonna kick my ass today.” River taunted. He stepped towards her and she bolted around him towards the foot of their bed where she’d left her jeans. Their argument was cut short when Dean’s phone started ringing in his pocket. 

“Hello?” He answered the call still glaring at River who was intently reading a newspaper article she had plucked off the motel rooms chipped table.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel’s gravelly voice answered.

“Cas, hey man we thought you were dead.” Dean said relieved to finally hear from their Angelic friend. 

“Is he ok?” Sam and River asked in unison from opposite ends of the room.

Dean waived his hand at them to be quiet so he could talk. “What happened to you? Where’ve you been?”

Cas sighed, “In a hospital.”

“A Hospital? Are you ok?” 

“No…” Castiel left the answer hanging. He stared around the sterile room identical to the dozens of other hospital rooms he had visited since joining Team Free Will. Same pale white walls, cold tile floors, and he even wore a paper thin hospital gown he had seen his human friends in on too many occasions. The room was cold and unfamiliar, he missed his trench coat along with the rest of his clothing. 

“You wanna elaborate Cas?" Dean asked.

“Well, I just woke up here. The doctors were very surprised. They thought I was braindead.” Cas grumbled. He ran his hands through the itchy sheets until he found his nurse call button. He wanted more of that pain medicine the nurse with the pinched face and severe, librarian-style bun had brought him earlier. “After Van Nuys, I appeared bloody and disoriented on a shirmpping boat off of Delacroix.”

Dean ran his thumb and forefinger across his eyebrows trying not to snap at the Angel. “Well, we’re all glad you’re not dead and you’re just in time as usual so if you could just ‘zap’ to our motel that’d be great. We got a bead on Pestilence. We’re leaving now to get the son of a bitch’s ring.”

“Dean, I can’t ‘zap’ anywhere. That’s what I’m trying to explain.” Cas sighed as the nurse returned to his room with a syringe of magical medication in hand. “My….batteries, I guess you could say, are drained.”

“Are you saying you’re out of Angel mojo?” Dean clarified looking at River who quietly mouthed ‘fuck’ as her fingers subconsciously rubbed at the empty space around her neck where Gabriels necklace used to be. 

Castiel’s eyes fluttered as the pain meds hit his blood stream, instantly dulling the ache that permeated his every muscle. “I’m saying I’m thirsty and hungry. I have the urge to urinate every five minutes. I have a bug bite that itches no matter how much I scratch it-”

“You’re human? That’s what you’re saying.” Dean said as he sat down on the bed next to River. “Welcome to the club.”

“I’m also saying I can’t go anywhere without money for a plane ticket. And food. And pain medicine…” 

“Alright, I’ll call Bobby, he’ll wire you some money and we’ll meet you at his place after we deal with Pestilence.” 

Castiel rallied his senses before he let himself fully drift away on a haze of narcotic bliss. “Dean, you said ‘no’ to Michael.”

“Yeah. I did.” Dean sighed. 

“I owe you an apology. You are not the burnt out shell of a man I thought you were. You humans continue to surprise me.”

“Um…thanks Cas-Cas?” The phone clicked in his ear followed by high pitched beeping as Castiel hung up on him. 

The three piled back into the car less than an hour later. The task of facing another Horseman was making them all a little extra tense. Dean and Sam wore identical taught expressions. There was no further discussion about Sam’s plan to trap the Devil. In fact they said very little as they drove to the location Brady had given them. Rivers stomach churned uneasily as she replayed their run in with Famine over and over in her head as she silently slipped into an old set of nursing scrubs. The feelings of intense need, longing and loneliness that Famine had drudged up from her subconscious had humiliated her. It had taken nothing but a dismissive flick of the Horseman’s hand to completely erase all control she and Castiel had over themselves. She was terrified of the terrible things that might wait for her inside the convalescent home Pestilence was using as his mad scientist lair. She checked her makeup in her small handheld mirror and sighed. “I’d kill the Pope for two hours of girl time. I need to get my god damn eyebrows threaded and a mani/pedi. If we could squeeze that in before the end of the world that’d be great.” She muttered. 

Dean turned in his seat to look at her. “You gonna take that thing out of your nose?”

She touched the small, shiny white stone in her nose. “This is the only piece of jewelry I own. Now that Gabe is gone and Zachariah destroyed the ring Castiel gave me. Besides its cute. And if I go in there and die, I’m gonna die cute.”

Sam smiled and handed her the demon killing knife in its soft leather sheath and a fake employee badge he had put together on the ride over. She tucked the knife into the elastic band of her scrub pants and pulled her loose top over it. She double checked the hex bags she had shoved in her pockets, hopefully they would hide her true intents from any demons that might be stationed inside. Dean watched her quietly for a minute as she took several deep, nervous breaths.”It’s not Famine in there. It’s not gonna be like last time.” He said unknowingly reading her mind.

A dark pink blush flared across her cheeks and she looked away from him, nodding. “I know. I don’t think Pestilence’s game would be encouraging less than consensual sex acts.”

“Whats the game plan?” Dean asked her distracting her from her anxious thoughts. 

She let out a long breath before answering. “I go in there and figure out who’s King Cootie. I’ll call you once I ID him. We kill him, take his ring, go get waffles.” She smiled pulling her long hair into a simple braid. It had been her plan to go in alone. Dean relented after an hour of debating with her. He couldn’t come up with a better plan besides sneaking inside, overpowering the facilities security officers and waiting for a sign of the Horseman. River could slip in easier than them, pass herself off as a new employee and hopefully not tip off any demonic sentries while she searched for Pestilence. “I need you two to promise me something,” she said clipping the badge onto her top, “If I go in there and it turns into Zombieland…if something happens to me, if I’m infected or turned you swear you’ll put me down if I can’t do it myself.”

“That’s not gonna happen.” Dean said quickly.

She leaned forward looking between the brothers. “Zachariah showed me what the Croatoan virus is going to do. Gabriel sent me to that place because he knew what was coming. He wanted to prepare me….and I know that Delilah and the others- I know they weren’t real. Not really-real but we promised each other we wouldn’t let the other become one of those things.” Dean shook his head refusing to answer; the deafening sound of the gunshot she used to kill herself in Zachariah’s future echoing in his head. She placed a hand on each of their shoulders making them look at her. “I love you two more than anything, I trust you with my life and I need you to promise me if something happens in there tonight or out here if we don’t stop this, you will take care of me if I need you to.”

Sam nodded quickly. “Dean?” she asked quietly. He nodded silently. “Ok, well now that the formalities are done with, keep your phones close.”

“You got this, Riv,” Sam told her as she climbed out of the car.

She paused and smiled at them. “Of course I do. I came her to chew bubblegum and kick ass. And I’m all out of bubblegum.” She put her glasses on, nervously touched her hair and hurried across the street. They were betting on her being dismissed or ignored by any demons. She couldn’t hide her bright coppery hair on such short notice but hopefully with her loose scrubs, tattoos covered and if she kept her filthy mouth shut as much as possible she could slip in and do recon with out tipping anyone off.

The faint stench of old urine and arthritic muscle ointment permitted the air inside the brightly lit facitlity. There were a few confused residents scooting themselves along the clean, clutter free hallways. Nurses and aides bustled in and out of rooms. A guard sat at the front desk monitoring the front doors and a bank of grainy black and white security cameras. “Same old same old.” River thought to herself remembering countless identical convalescent homes she’d visited during nursing school. There was no stench of sulfur or the rotting aroma of decaying flesh that usually accompanied groups of zombies. “Hi, I’m Jenny from Nurses Stat agency. The charge nurse called and said there a shift shortage tonight.” River said smiling at the young man in the rent a cop uniform.

“Yeah. Ok, sign in here. Nurses stations around the corner.” He replied sliding a guest log across the counter towards her. After scrawling a fake name onto the log she wandered down one of the long hallways. She’d learned a long time ago that as long as she looked like she belonged no one would stop and question her. She spent nearly an hour investigating each room, talking to a few of the more cognizant residents and had seen no demonic activity or signs of the Horseman. She pulled out her phone ready to text Dean that they had been duped by Brady when she noticed a room at the far end of the hallway. It had bright orange signs and a metallic yellow cart stationed outside. “ISOLATION DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT PROPER PROTECTIVE EQUIPMENT” the signs read as she slowly approached the room. She peered thought the dark blinds and saw a skeletally thin woman sitting up in bed. She coughed loudly and hacked up a thick green glob of something disgusting onto the tile floor. 

“Hey! I need a hand in this room!” A nurses aid yelled from down the hall. River looked over her shoulder towards the waiving woman then back to the dark room. 

“I’m coming,” she yelled back jogging towards the nurses aid. She helped the nurses aid wrangle a confused octogenarian back to bed. “Hey, what can you tell me about that iso room? How contagious is it?” She asked the other woman.

“Very. No one’s allowed in there except Dr. Green and Kim, his private nurse.” She answered.

River nodded, “Dr. Green? Is he here?”

The woman glanced at her watch, “Yeah he should be here any time.” River followed the other woman out of the room. A sudden waive of dizziness and nausea slammed into her causing River to stumble into the woman in front of her. The nurses aid fell to her knees, moaning in agony then painted the floor and wall with a sick foul smelling green soup of projectile vomit. The woman collapsed at her feet and River unsteadily stepped over her body. Patients and staff members dropped dead around her. Sweat broke out across her brow and dripped down her back, she suddenly felt like she was burning up. A sour taste filled her mouth as another waive of nausea wrenched through her stomach. She made it a few more paces before collapsing. Her trembling fingers reached for her phone and she struggled to bring it her ear. She could not find the strength to lift the phone. She squeezed one eye shut trying to focus on the lit screen, fingers shaking and slipping across the touch screen. “Damn it.” She murmured as the text bubble popped up instead of calling Dean. The cool tile against her back did nothing to alleviate the burning fever raging inside of her. She let out a ragged breath feeling like her brain was a few degrees away from boiling inside her skull. 

“Well, well, well. Isn’t this interesting. You must have a very strong constitution to still be breathing.” A soft spoken man said bending down to look at her. She blinked several times willing her eyes to focus. The voice belonged to a thin, pale older man. “Dr. Green” per the plastic name tag around his neck. He pushed his wire rimmed glassed up the bridge of his narrow nose and inspected her with keen, cold eyes. He ran one finger across her forehead collecting a drop of her infected sweat. His forked tongue darted out to taste the raging infections battering her immune system and he smiled at the cocktail of diseases he had let loose in the retirement home.

“Sir, the Winchesters are across the street in that stupid car.” A second voice alerted. River saw a young woman standing behind the doctor. The pink teddy bear patterned scrubs the demon wore was an unsettling contrast to her hateful black eyes.

“Yes. Of course they are.” Pestilence replied. Rivers fingers flew almost blindly across her phone sending a text to Dean as quickly as she could. “Bring her to Mrs. Smiths room. I’d like to run a few tests.” He stepped past her, his shoes making hollow clicks on the tile floor as he walked towards the isolation room. The demon leaned down, roughly grabbed RIver’s wrist and dragged her down the hallway following Pestilence into the dark quarantined room at the end of the hall. 

“I think Brady fucked us.” Dean growled drinking the last of his cold coffee from a styrofoam takeout cup.

Sam nodded, “Wouldn’t be the first time a demon fucked us.” 

Dean drummed his fingers restlessly along the steering wheel. “We shouldn’t be out here. It’s been over an hour. I’m gonna go check on River.”

“You go in there now and you’ll blow her cover.” Sam responded.

“Don’t care.” Dean told him reaching for the door handle. His phone vibrated with River’s text message and he glanced at the screen: ’dOcTer bad 45;/Z every1 ded’. “Shit. She’s in trouble.” He hissed jumping out of the car. They ran across the deserted street towards the convalescent home. An elderly man was slumped over in his wheelchair just inside the entrance, bloody green vomit covering his shirt, his face a mess of open oozing pustules. Dean pulled the Colt out of his belt as he and his brother quickly took in their surroundings. The facility split off in three hallways, dead bodies lay everywhere. “Where is she?” Dean muttered to himself.

“Security monitors!” Sam called as he rushed behind the front desk. He pushed the dead guard off the desk and scanned through the dozen black and white monitors. “She’s being taken into a room at the end of the West hallway.” They ran towards the correct hallway, finding more bodies. The brothers recoiled as a wave of dizziness hit them. Dean’s stomach clenched, Sam tripped over a dead body and clung to the handrails along one of the walls. 

“I think we’re headed in the right direction,” Dean mumbled as he choked back the urge to vomit up his coffee. Sam grunted in agreement as they struggled down the hallway towards the room at the far end. 

“Come on boys. You’re late for your appointment with the doctor.” The demon nurse stepped out of the dark room and crossed her arms impatiently over her chest. Dean squinted his eyes and swayed on his feet, the pink spots on her scrubs giving him something to focus on. He raised the Colt. The Demons eyebrows shot up in surprise. She still wore the same dumb look of shock when the bullet tore through her chest.

The Winchesters crawled over the dead Demon and into the room a few moments later. River lay in the middle of the room, forgotten for the time being. “Give me just a moment.” Pestilence said disinterestedly. He sat on the edge of Mrs. Smith’s bed, the elderly woman was taking shallow, wet breaths. Pink foam bubbled out of her lips and she weakly clawed at the blanket across her lap. “I just want to see what a touch of smallpox, a dash of Japanese encephalitis and a sprinkle of my personal favorite, Dragon Fever does to the human respiratory system. For research of course.” Mrs. Smith let out one last anguished gurgling cry before falling limply onto her bed. “Very interesting….” Pestilence murmured to himself. He pulled a notebook out of his pocket and wrote a few lines. Dean pulled himself along the floor towards River; the Colt gripped tightly in his hand. Sam trailed behind him, trying to pull himself to his knees. The Horseman twisted the ornate ring on his left hand, the chartreuse stone glinting sickeningly in the dim light of the room. The brothers collapsed to the floor groaning. “You two don’t look well at all. That might be because of the Scarlet fever. Or the viral hepatitis mixed with advanced syphiliys. The fever liquefying your brain as we speak is of course Lóng Fāshāo, Dragon Fever.” Dean raised the pistol and fired, the shot went wide shattering a framed photo the now departed Mrs. Smith had hanging above her bed. “Now, Dean, that will not do. Can’t you die quietly like your brother Sam.” Pestilence chided as he walked towards him. He wrenched the gun out of the hunters hand and tossed it across the room. “Pitty about my Dragon Fever. Extremely contagious but kills people too quickly. The infected die within twelve hours but then my beautiful disease has no host to metabolize. It did cause quite a panic in Asia, though didn’t it? Are you panicking? Any difficulty breathing, feeling feverish, sensing any impending doom? Can you rate your pain on a scale of 1-10?” He chuckled to himself, standing up and brushing the wrinkles out of his pants. Dean pulled himself a few feet closer to River. Her face extremely pale, red hair stuck to her forehead in sweaty clumps, a thin trickle of blood dripped from her nose. “Now she has a mixture of Ebola, endocarditis and avian influenza. She’s got about five minutes before her eyeballs start to melt.” Pestilence turned away from them, stepping over Sam and waiving his hands under the automatic hand sanitizer dispenser at the doorway. “Germs get a bad rap. But they are beautiful, magnificent in their design. One divine purpose. Divide and conquer. Destroy the useless, messy bags of flesh you humans are. Frankly, I’ve never understood why God poured so much love into you. I take honor in ravaging his weak creation.”

“I’ve had my fill of evil monologues,” Dean ground out.

“Who the hell are you?” Pestilence demanded as a third man staggered into the room. 

“Cas!” Sam said relieved as the trench coat wearing Angel appeared at their moment of need. 

“How’d you get here?” Pestilence asked.

“I took a bus.” The Angel answered. “Don’t worry. I-“ He staggered forwards as Pestilences powers overcame him. He grabbed a small table to keep himself on his feet. His head swam and black spots appeared n his vision.

“How very interesting…” The Horseman remarked. “An occupied Angelic vessel but completely powerless.” Castiel’s hand slipped from the table and he landed heavily on his knees spitting up blood as he fell. “There’s not a speck of Angel left in you, is there?” Pestilence asked bending down to inspect Castiel more closely. Dean reached one hand towards River, his fingers barely brushing against her cheek. He was sure they were done for. Lucifer was going to win. And they were all going to die in this small sad room. River’s bloodshot eyes opened and she winked at him. Her hand slowly pulled at the sweat soaked scrub top revealing the Demon killing knife. 

 

Castiel suddenly lucked forward, tackling Pestilence to the ground. “There might be a speck of Angel left in me.” Cas growled as he grabbed Pestilence’s twill vest and head butted him, smashing his forehead into the fleshy part of the Horseman’s nose. River pulled herself weakly to her feet, the Demon knife clutched in one hand and teetered across the floor towards Castiel and the Horseman. Cas met her determined eyes and grabbed Pestilences wrists, slamming them to the ground over his head. River sank to her knees at the Angels side raising the knife. The blade sliced off most of the fingers on the Horseman’s left hand including the one his powerful ring occupied. River snatched up the finger with the ring still attached to it. Pestilence roared in anger using the last bit of his strength to knock her and Castiel across the room. He heaved himself to his feet, his ruined hand clutched to his chest. 

“You can’t win! It’s already too late!” He screeched before disappearing. The illnesses ravaging their bodies disappeared with the Horseman and the Hunters and Angel lay quietly on the cold tile for several long minutes regaining their senses. 

River pulled the ring off the severed finger and held it out to Dean. “I’m not really in the mood for waffles anymore.” She said giving him a sad half smile. Before they left the convalescent home she dialed 911 from one of the phones at the nurses station and reported a carbon monoxide leak. 

They tiredly piled back in to the Impala. Beating Pestilence should have given them a feeling of success but instead they felt the weight of the impossible task of finding and defeating Death. Dean drove them back towards Sioux Falls. Castiel eventually fell asleep resting his head on River’s lap. She ran her finger through his soft auburn hair and stared mindlessly out the window at the dark landscape. Sam talked quietly to Bobby on his cellphone updating the older hunter and asking if he’d received any leads on the last Horseman. 

Eventually River too closed her eyes for several long minutes. When she opened them Dean was staring at her in the rearview mirror, his green eyes narrowed in concern. “Praying?” He asked. She nodded and looked down at Castiel. She prayed almost everyday, usually in secret, sending a quick prayer when she was alone in the shower or right before she fell asleep. “To who?”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth nervously. “Gabriel…I don’t know where they go when they die or if he can even hear me but I pray just in case he can…I’ve been praying to him a lot. A lot more now that’s he dead than I did when he was here. Just want to let him know I’m still alive. We’re still fighting….makes me feel better. Like he might answer me one of these days.” Dean nodded silently.

“Well, sounds like they have 3 out of 4 rings.” Crowley drawled as Bobby hung up with Sam. Bobby spun his wheelchair around to face the Demon that had invaded his study.

“I thought I told you to stay the hell away from me!” Bobby demanded. 

Crowley smiled, “Is that why you’ve kept my proposed contract all these months instead of destroying it?” The older hunter sneered as the thick brown parchment scroll appeared on his desk. “Now, I won’t tell them that you’ve had this…opportunity under your hat. Instead making them fight and lose because you’re so concerned over one measly little soul.”

“It’s my soul you want! I think I got a right to be concerned!” Bobby retorted.

“Yes. And like I made it very clear at the beginning of our bargaining this is a lease. You loan me your soul, I help you find Death. The bastards impossible to track without some very tricky magic. Look, may I be frank? You and the rest of the planet are literally at the Last Days. This is your finally chance to get the last piece of the Cage before Lucifer faces Michael.”

Bobby stared at the contract. He had read, reread, translated and memorized every syllable in it. They had no other way to find Death. Without the last ring they had no plan. Crowley had stepped up and given them a way to find Pestilence. “Alright, you son of a bitch. Tell me where we find Him.”


	59. Chapter 59

Bobby’s version of ‘good morning, glad you’re alive, good job stopping Pestilence’ was a gruff snort when the Hunters and fallen Angel trudged back into his home the next morning. “Hope you weren’t expecting a congratulations party.” He grumbled.

“Is there coffee?” River called over her shoulder as she made her way through his cluttered sitting room into the kitchen. Sam sat heavily on the sagging couch, Cas leaned against a wall and Dean sat in the high backed chair at Bobby’s desk.

“There was. I drank it.” Bobby answered as River scrounged through his cabinets searching for the last of the coffee grounds. “Nice to have a win for once.” He muttered pulling his wheelchair besides Dean. The younger man nodded morosely as he spun Pestilences ring like a lopsided top across the chipped surface of the desk. 

“Yeah I guess.” Dean answered. “Just... Pestilence said something before he disappeared.”

“Are you pausing for dramatic effect? What the hell’d he say?” Bobby demanded.

“We’re already too late.” River said as she returned from the kitchen and handed out cups of hot coffee. Dean pulled her into his lap and buried his face in her hair. She blushed as he groaned contentedly, his arms circling her waist. “We’re kind of worried he planted a bomb somewhere.” She said shifting in Dean’s lap so she could reach her coffee. 

“So if you could please tell us you’ve got some good news-“ Dean murmured removing his face from the back of River’s neck and taking a drink of his coffee. 

“Well, if by good news you mean Chicago’s about to wiped off the map in the Storm of the millennium.” Bobby answered. The others sighed, bowing their heads in exhaustion and resignation waiting for Bobby to continue. “The storm is going to set off a chain of events that triggers a series of natural disasters. Three million people are going to die within a handful of hours.”

Cas crossed his arms and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “I don’t understand your definition of good news.”

River smiled and shook her head at the bewildered Angel. Bobby gave Castiel an annoyed glance, “Well Death, as in the Horseman, is going to be there. And if we stop him before he kick starts the storm and get his ring…”

“Yeah you make it sound so easy.” Sam replied scrubbing his hands down his face. 

River shook her head and scrutinized the older man in front of her. "Bobby, how exactly do you know all this? That bald head of yours suddenly acting like a crystal ball?” He shifted in his wheelchair and pulled down on his ever present baseball cap.

“Well, you know I had…help.” He answered. A cupboard door slammed shut causing them to startle and turn towards the supposed-to-be-empty kitchen. Crowley stood at the kitchen counter pouring himself a healthy three fingers of whiskey from one of Bobby’s personal bottles.

The Demon swirled the amber liquor around the grimy glass, sniffed and grimaced setting the glass untouched down on a stack of musty books. “Don’t be so humble. I hardly helped at all.” He said smiling haughtily. “Hello boys, crumpet.”

River rolled her eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She muttered looking back at Bobby for an explanation. Bobby shifted again in his wheelchair as Dean, Sam and Castiel each turned their questioning eyes on him.

“Go ahead tell them.” Crowley encouraged. “There’s no shame in it.”

Sam stood up from the couch moving closer to Bobby. “Tell us what?”

“World’s gonna end. I ain’t doin’ any good from this chair. You three…four have been runin’ yourselves to the bone.”

“Bobby, What did you do?” River asked quietly.

His bottom lip twitched, he avoided his families worried stare and met Crowley’s. “Seemed silly to get all precious over one little soul-“

“You sold your soul!” Dean yelled lifting River off his lap and planting her on the floor.

“Pawned it. I fully intend to return it.” Crowley clarified.

River stomped towards the Demon. “Give it back.” She demanded.

“I will when the time is right.” 

Dean slammed his fist on the table and stood up. “I’m not playing this game again. Give him his soul back now!”

“I can’t.”

“I think you mean to say you won’t.” River yelled taking another step towards him.

Crowley stood his ground, brushing a piece of lint of the lapel of his suit jacket. “You’re right. I won’t.”

“Why not?” Sam asked.

“You kill demons. I’m a bloody Demon! It’s insurance alright? I don’t trust any of you. I give you Deaths location and his soul back,” Crowley yelled pointing at Bobby, “and one of you, my moneys on Gigantor, kills me. No thank you. I keep his soul in my deposit box and you get it back when and only when this job is done; Lucifer is back in the cage and I get to walk away. Do we understand each other?”

Dean stomped out of the house a few moments after Crowley made his grand exit. Bobby slumped in his chair, grinding his teeth quietly and nursing a bottle of whiskey. River shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket and stared down at him. “I…I just…what the fuck Bobby? How the hell could you make a deal with that deep fried piece of haggis?” She asked before following Dean out of the house. She found him removing everything in the Impala’s trunk and stacking them on a work table. “What’cha doin’?”

“Looking for some Devil’s shoelace and goopher dust. We need to seal up Bobby’s house.” He answered not looking up at her. He leaned as far into the trunk as he could without physically climbing into it. “Son of a bitch where is it!” He yelled angrily. 

River nudged him out of the way with her hip and lifted a stack of books they had tucked in one of the deep corners of the trunk. She procured two small glass bottles and held them up. “He has the standard ten years. And we need to get to Chicago… I’ve never had legit Chicago deep dish pizza. We should get some, you know if Death doesn’t kill us.” 

Dean took the offered bottles and set them on the table for safe keeping before turning back to her. “Deep dish sounds amazing.” He murmured against her lips. He lifted her up to sit on the edge of the open trunk. “Cheese, sausage-“ He said wrapping her legs around his hips.

She laughed burying her face into his neck, “I think I got all the cheese I can handle right here.”

“Oh come I though that was pretty good-“

“It was a little too much ‘I have the kielbasa you ordered’ and not enough ‘I wanna fuck you into next week’.” River replied slipping her hands behind his neck and bringing his face to hers for a kiss. They broke the soon enough no use getting hot and bothered when they didn’t have the time or privacy to finish what they both wanted to start. 

Dean cleared his throat and stepped out of the enticing embrace of her thighs. “Speaking of kielbasa that feathery douche should have just told us what we were supposed to do…” He said defaulting to his usual gripe as of late.

She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know why Gabe did what he did. He was…different. He gave us a lead at least. A goal-“

“What goal is that? Sam letting Lucifer ride his skin?” He scrubbed his hands down his face. “How is his stupid plan any different from mine?”

“Your plan would have ended in Michael and Lucifer taking out half the planet. If we can figure out a way for Sam’s plan to work. No one has to die.”

“No one except my brother.” Dean said turning away from her and coming face to face with said brother. Sam gave him a tight smile. “What is this? Family meeting time again. Did you two plan this?”

River shrugged. “Not exactly…”

“Dean, just hear me out.” Sam told his brother. Dean begrudgingly tucked his hands in his jacket and nodded at his brother to continue. “To start I agree with you-“

“Agree with what?” Dean asked.

“That I’m not strong enough to beat Lucifer. I know how screwed up I am. But I am also the only play we’ve got. If there was another way we would’ve found it by now. But theres not. It’s just me and we’ve got try to this.” Sam finished.

“Are they always this dramatic?” Crowley quipped appearing next to River. Sam and Dean’s shoulders turned tense. The hunters faces instantly shifted to annoyed bitch mode at the demons oily presence. 

She glared at Crowley before replying. “Sometime there’s man tears. What do you want Demon?”

Crowley sighed procuring a rolled newspaper from his jacket. “You need to see something.” He handed the paper to River. Her blue eyes scanning through the headlines.

“CDC clears Malphas vaccine. Niveus industries readying shipments,” River read out loud cocking an eyebrow at the Demon. “It’s the flu shot, right? Whats the big deal?”

Dean took the paper and quickly read the article for himself. “Niveus…isn’t that the company Brady worked for?” He asked. Crowley nodded.

“I don’t get it. People have been stalking pharmacies and hospitals waiting for this to be released.” Sam said. 

Crowley looked between the three bewildered faces. “Niveus pharmaceuticals. Which Brady was V.P of distribution…” River’s eyebrows shot up in understanding, one shaking hand went to cover her mouth. “Oh look at that the proverbial lightbulb…” He muttered. Dean and Sam still stood puzzled rereading the article for some hidden clues.

“No, no, no. Vaccination rates are supposed to be 80-90% this flu season. People are terrified of Dragon Fever…” River said disbelieving. “Crowley tell me those fucks didn’t put it in the flu shots!” 

The Demon nodded once, “I’ll stake my reputation on it Crumpet.”

River brushed her hands through her hair muttering “Shit, shit, shit.”

“I’ve had five hours of sleep in the last two days if one of you could fill us in,” Dean said as River paced nervously.

“We’re already too late.” River repeated Pestilences final warning. “Step one was the flu. Kill thousands, cause an international panic. Step two is the vaccine. A vaccine thats face no oversight, completely researched and created by a private pharmaceutical company. The Croatoan virus is in that shot. Thats how it will spread so quickly, everyone who gets the flu shot is already infected.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered rubbing his hand along his jaw. “When are they releasing it?” He asked his brother who still held the newspaper.

“Wednesday.” Sam said. “Tomorrow. The same day Death is visiting Chicago.” He tossed the newspaper aside and pushed his hair off his forehead.

“Great. I really wanted some fucking pizza,” River muttered stomping back inside Bobby’s house.

Crowley smirked. “I suggest you stock up on everything. I’ll return at dusk.”

Dusk came quickly for the group. They spent the hours in preparation, loading weapons, blessing vials of holy water, and making salt rounds. Bobby retreated to a locked cabinet in his garage and gingerly removed a locked metallic ammo box. Castiel paced the in front of the black van he, Sam, and River would be driving to the Niveus distribution plant. River loaded duffle bags of weapons and supplies into the back of the van. They had to stop Death and try and save Chicago. They also had to stop the Malphas vaccine from being released. It was a double sided suicide mission and they all knew it. “What’s your problem Cas?” River finally asked after Castiel let out another deep sigh.

“This is what you humans call the 11th hour.” He stated. 

River nodded, “Yeah I guess it is.” She watched Bobby carefully set his ammo box down and y remove bricks of explosives. He tucked them, along with spools of cables and home made detonation devices, into a canvas bag on his lap.

“Well, it’s the 11th hour and I am completely useless. I have none of my powers.” He said disgustedly.

Bobby scoffed, “Boo hoo princess.”

“I commanded armies of the Heavenly Host. I marched across battlefields in Heaven and Hell and now…”

“Are you really gonna complain to me?” Bobby said rolling his wheelchair towards the Angel. “You remember I didn’t start out in this damn chair, right?” Castiel remained silent. “Why don’t you help her load the van and quit bitching?” He tossed the explosive laden bag at the Angel and wheeled away.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Cas asked River as he sat the bag in the van and   
picked up the shotgun she had given him. 

“Cas, sweetie, we went over this. That’s your boomstick. You point it at things you want to die and pull the trigger,” River said patting his arm. The screen door slammed and the heavy foot steps of the Winchesters marked their trail down the wheelchair ramp. 

“Good luck stopping the Zombie apocalypse,” Dean said giving Sam a hug.

Sam nodded, “Good luck killing Death.” 

Dean smiled and stepped around his brother. River wrung her hands nervously. “Don’t die.” She said giving him a half smile.

“Don’t let Cas get bit by a zombie.” He replied. She stood on her toes to reach his lips, fingers running through his hair searing the way he tasted and felt into her memory. 

“Time to go,” Crowley announced. 

The air grew heavy. They shared a brief look knowing it might be the last time they saw each other on this side of the Pearly Gates. Sam held out the Demon Knife towards his brother. “Keep it Gigantor. Dean’s covered.” Crowley told him. A curved wicked looking blade appeared in the Demons hands. The blade was covered in stains River was sure weren’t just rust. 

“Is that a scythe?” Sam asked.

Crowley nodded proudly. “Death’s very own. Kills Demons, Angels, Reapers and rumor has it, the great dark thing himself.”

“How did you get that?” Castiel demanded. The Scythe was supposed to be lost to the ages. It had disappeared after the Fall when the Horseman themselves retreated to the deepest caves of Hell their powers gone after being used to bind Lucifer in his cage. 

Crowley’s face turned smug, “Hello! King of the Crossroads. Shall we? I’d like get back before tea time.” 

River rolled her eyes and bent down to give Bobby one finally goodbye hug. “See you soon Papa Bear.” 

The older man held on to her for a few precious extra seconds before releasing her. “See ya soon girl.”

“What do you mean ‘see you soon’? You just going to stay in that chair while we save the world?” Crowley asked over his shoulder as he strode towards the waiting Impala.

“No I got a tryout for the women’s ribbon dancing team ya idjit.” Bobby grumbled slouching further down into his chair.

The Demon clicked his tongue impatiently. “Bobby, Bobby, Bobby. You said you read our contract line by line. Had it all memorized. Did you miss appendix J, section D7, clause 4A?”

River, the Winchesters and Cas looked between Crowley and Bobby. Bobby shifted uncomfortably under their stare. “I may have skipped some of the appendices…”

“You really shouldn’t have taken Dean’s example and wasted your bloody deal. Now Dick Cheney, there is a man that nows how to draw up a contract…You're still sitting there Bobby. We really do have to get on the road.” Crowley snapped his fingers and Bobby suddenly had warm tingling sensations running up and down his legs. He lifted one heavy tingling foot from the wheelchair footrest the other foot followed a second later. He took a deep unbelieving breath before pushing himself out of his chair. River’s scream of happiness reached octaves loud enough to shatter glass as she flung herself at the older hunter. Bobby caught her midair, swung her around in a tight circle before setting her back on the ground and kicking his feet up in quick little jig. 

“God damn that feels good!” Bobby yelled.

“I know I’m a bloody saint.” Crowley muttered disappearing and reappearing in the passenger seat of the Impala. He leaned over and honked the horn when Dean didn’t immediately join him.

“Have fun committing domestic terrorism.” Dean murmured in River’s ear before kissing her quickly on the cheek.

“Domestic terrorism’s always been on my bucket list. I just thought it would be more like ‘Free Willy’ and less like the end of ‘Fight Club’.” River replied. “Get your ass to Chicago and bring me back some deep dish.”

Bobby insisted he drive his group. The feel of the pedals under his feet and the vibrations of the road traveling up his legs was exhilarating. River and Castiel shared the bucket seats in the second row, crammed between bags of weapons and explosives. Sam discussed his idea to somehow trap Lucifer inside his mind long enough to fling them both back into the Pit. Castiel’s forehead furrowed as he considered Sam’s proposition. “Say ‘Yes’ to Lucifer?” He said after a few moments of rumination. “Its an interesting plan.”

“Interesting? Yeah thats one word for it.” Bobby muttered.

Sam turned in his seat. “You can be honest Cas. It’s a shitty plan. The worst plan I’ve ever come up with.”

Castiel nodded. “Of course. I can say that if it’s what you wish to hear.” River tried to stifle her outburst of laughter with a cough. Castiel’s near complete lack of social awareness never grew old. The former Angel cocked an annoyed eyebrow at her before continuing. “But… I do not believe that. You and your brother have a habit of exceeding my expectations.”

“You keep the bar pretty low Cas.” River said smirking. 

He sighed, “I mean to say that Dean resisted Michael. Maybe you could resist Lucifer.”

“What about Raphael’s vessel and the drooling potato he left behind? Or that poor sack Gabriel found. Or Jimmy? Why would Sam be different?” River asked.

Castiel rolled his shoulders and looked at her. “Because Sam doesn’t truly want to be possessed. If he can remember that, if he can keep himself tethered he may be able to resist Lucifer enough to remain in control.” She nodded quietly considering what he said. “You need to know something though. Michael has found another vessel.”

“What?” Sam asked.

“It’s your brother Adam. Surely you must have considered it.” Castiel said quietly. 

“We kind hoped the Angels let him go back to Heaven to be with his mom.” River answered. 

Cas shook his head sadly, “Michael has a vessel, not his true vessel but one that he is wagering can beat Lucifer. Sam if you say ‘Yes’ to Lucifer and fail then this fight will happen and the world will pay the price. The collateral damage will be immense.”

“I know.”

“And then there’s the Demon blood-“ Cas continued.

“Demon blood?” Sam asked.

“To hold Lucifer you would have drink more than you ever have. The vessel must be strengthened or you’ll explode.”

“But that walking corpse Lucifer is riding right now-“ River said remembering the decaying grey faced man that appeared at the Elysian Hotel.

“He’s drinking gallons to keep himself intact. His minions no doubt gleefully sacrificing themselves to his service.”

Sam turned around, looking at the brightening sky. He had hoped his addiction to Demon blood was a scab he‘d never have to open back up. River leaned forward and placed her hand on his shoulder giving it a firm squeeze. He rested his large hands on hers and they drove the rest of the way in a heavy silence. 

The Niveus distribution plant was buzzing with activity. Two dozen bright yellow box trucks were parked at loading bays. Workers in reflective vests and hard hats were steering pushcarts up ramps and driving forklifts around the football field sized lot. “I don’t think they’ve started loading the vaccines into the trucks yet,” River murmured handing her binoculars to Sam. 

“We take out the gate, block the trucks from leaving, plant the C4 around the perimeter, get the workers out before we blow the joint.” Sam repeated before they took their designated positions. Bobby and River carrying the bags of explosives and a pair of bolt cutters, Sam and Cas heading to the gate. They got through the chain link narrowly avoiding an errant forklift driver and broke off into opposite directions. Her and Bobby would have a five minute window to plant their explosives.

A truck horn blared in the distance signaling Cas’s successfully disengaging the one electronic gate. Within seconds of the noise the workers that had so far been unaware of the pending insurgence stopped all activity. As one they turned and ran back into the building. A staccato of metal loading doors being slammed and locked shut echoed across the now empty lot. “That can’t be good.” River muttered to herself as she planted her last brick of C4 and carefully applied the wireless detonation trigger. She grabbed her own ‘boomstick’ from the bottom of her now empty duffel bag and jogged around the building until she found the others readying themselves to break into the one employee entrance. The architect had done an excellent job of creating a fortified building. With the loading doors sealed there was only one penetrable door. The only problem was they were about to bust in blind with no idea how what waited on the other side. Bobby kneeled in front of the steel reinforced door and stuck a quarter sized piece of explosive putty on the door knob. The three humans ran several paces away to avoid the blast zone. Castiel however stood glaring at the door wondering what that tiny wad of greyish material was supposed to do. “Damn it Cas.” River grumbled running back towards him and grabbing one tan sleeve of his trench coat. “Cover your ears Cassie.” She instructed. The door was blown off its hinges a half minute later, leaving a smoking jagged hole which several terrified workers ran out of.

Their little act of domestic terrorism went off without a hitch. Despite the dozen demons inside they caught trying to release an aerosolized canister of ‘vaccine’. Once the demons were dealt with Sam wouldn’t let them blow the building to Hades until they made sure every human was safely evacuated. When Bobby finally did push the detonator the C4 left nothing behind but a fiery crater. Sam did the getaway driving after Bobby nearly collapsed from a Charlie horse on their way back to the van; his leg muscles weakened from months of disuse. River sat in the front of the van skipping through radio stations. They listened through three identical broadcasts about the ‘industrial accident’ at Niveus Pharmaceuticals distribution plant. The interim director of distribution finally gave an official statement confirming what they had hoped: the entire cache of ‘flu vaccines’ had been destroyed. “You know if it ever gets out what was really in those shots the Anti-Vaxx looney toons are going to be validated.” River mumbled when the station finally switched to the latest baseball scores. She dialed the radio through each station twice more. Sam knew she was waiting to hear if a massive freak storm had swallowed Chicago. She finally gave up and switched the radio off.

“No news is good news.” Sam said looking across at her. 

River nodded holding her cellphone to her ear again. Her call to Dean went straight to voicemail and she hung up without leaving a message. “It is physically and emotionally exhausting loving your brother. He is the best and worst thing thats ever happened to me.” She said after a few minutes of silence. “Meeting someone like him was never in my plans. Getting pregnant, the fighting and breaking up, everything that’s happened between us, all of it. It’s a lot to deal with Sam.”

“I know,” he answered.

“Fuck. I know you know. It’s this life. I can’t even remember what it’s like to have a normal life. You and Dean never got that....if this ends in our favor the only thing I want is for him is to be happy. Even for just a little while.“ She said. 

“We’re going to finish this. Dean’ll get the ring, hell he probably already has it and can’t hear his phone over his shitty music.” Sam told her smiling. “I can do the rest. Whatever it takes I will get Lucifer back into the Pit.”

Dean was just getting out of the Impala and stretching his stiff back when Bobby’s black van pulled up beside him. “Heard about the warehouse on the radio. Nice work.” He told the others as they exited the van and walked towards him.

“Did you get it?” River asked him.

“The pizza? Yeah it was delicious.” He answered smiling cockily.

“Jackass,” River muttered lunging for his jacket pockets. 

He laughed holding a shiny object far over her head towards his brothers outstretched hand. “You mean the ring? Of course I got it.”

Sam turned the brilliant white opal ring over in his fingers. It felt far heavier in his hand than it should have. “You really killed Death?” He asked handing the ring to River. 

“No,” Dean answered shaking his head. “He gave it to me.”

“What’d you have to give him, son?” Bobby asked. 

Dean smiled thinly, “We’ll talk about it later.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” River snapped.

He glanced down at her trying to avoid her worried eyes. “Baby needs a bath. Bring a couple beers around back in a little while?” She nodded and dropped the ring back into his hand before turning toward the house. “Shit, wait a second sweetheart I almost forgot.” Dean said grabbing her hand before she could walk away and reached down into the Impala with his free arm. He procured a foil wrapped package and held it out to her.

“Is that?” She asked giddily as the mouthwatering aroma of garlicky tomato sauce and cheese made her momentarily forget about Dean’s vague answer. He snatched the take out container out of her reach before she could grab it.

“Extra cheese.” He murmured as he leaned down to kiss her.

“Nerd.” She told him grabbing the container of pizza. “Come on Cas I’ll let you have a bite of my pizza.” After the pizza was devoured Castiel passed out on the couch, Sam disappeared to his room and Bobby walked laps around his cramped house just because he could. River found Dean wiping the last beads of water of Baby’s rear window. She sat at Bobby’s work table sipping her beer and watching as he triple checked there were no water stains or missed specks of dirt.

“Quit staring at my ass.” He said over his shoulder as he finished polishing the hub caps. 

“Make me,” She called over the rim of the amber beer bottle she held to her lips. “So we got the rings. What now?” She asked as he ambled over drying his hands off . 

“Now we use ‘em,” he said taking a swig of his own beer. 

“How?”

He smiled, “Watch this.” He reached into his pocket and dropped the Four Horseman’s rings onto the table in front of her. The rings clattered to the wood table then were drawn together as if magnetized; Death’s opal ring in the center surrounded by the other three rings forming a vaguely triangular shape. Dean held it up for River to inspect more closely.

“What the fuck?” She whispered taking the rings from him.

“Death told me how to use the. This and an Enochian spell opens a one way portal straight back to the Cage.”

“And Death just…gave you his ring? With instructions on how to use them. Free of charge?” She asked incredulously handing the rings back.

Dean shrugged, “Not exactly free of charge. Death knows about Sam’s plan to jump in the Pit with Lucifer. I had to promise not to stop him when he tries…”

“Sam knows whats at risk. If he fails we’re all fucked…he’s damaged and dark and there’s a lot of baggage there,” River said quietly. “But he’s good man. He’s brave and strong, he’s a hell of a lot stronger than any of us have given him credit for. Sam can save all of us. We have to let him try.”

Dean shook his head, pressing his index and thumb against his eyes, “He’s been my responsibility since I was four years old. I’m supposed to protect him. And now I’m just supposed to watch him go to Hell.”

“If it means saving the world? Yeah, yeah you are.”


	60. Chapter 60

Dean drank the rest of his beer in silence. River watched as he held the Horseman’s rings in is hand running his thumb over each bump and groove. “God damn it.” He muttered shaking his head. 

She reached across the table and folded her hands over his. “Come inside, talk to Sam.” She told him. Dean nodded tucking the rings back into his pocket as they walked hand in hand back into Bobby’s home. Castiel was still asleep on the couch. One arm thrown over his eyes to block the murky sunlight leaking in through the grimy windows. Bobby was walking up and down the stairs humming happily. They found Sam in the kitchen leaning against the counter drinking his own beer. River let go of Dean’s warm hand and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek before drifting to Sam and giving the tall man a firm hug. 

Sam cocked an eyebrow and set his beer down. “What’s that for?”

“Just because,” she shrugged. “I’m gonna get a shower and pack some clean clothes.” She said leaving the brothers alone in the kitchen. Sam took another sip of beer and warily watched his brother.

Dean rubbed his jaw and stared at the ceiling for a few deep breaths. “Alright, I’m in.” He said looking his brother in the eyes. 

Sam set his beer down. “In with what?”

“I’m in with your ‘up with Satan’ plan.”

Sam let out a deep breath. “You’re gonna let me say yes?”

Dean shook his head. “I’m not letting you do anything. You’re a grown, an over grown man. And I’ve spent my whole life watching out for you; trying to protect you. I don’t know how to do anything else. But if this is what you want I’ll back your play.”

“Thank you, Dean.” 

He nodded, “I mean if anyone can beat the Devil it’s you. If thats what you want-“

“I’m the reason he’s out. I need to put him back.” Sam answered. 

“Alright.”

After waking Castiel and waiting for River to get out of the shower they scoured through news articles and weather reports for signs of demonic nests. Sam needed to start leveling up as quickly as possible before he faced off with Lucifer. River found a two paragraph article in the Kenosha Tribune about a run of out-of-season thunderstorms and flooding. They decided it was as good a lead as any and headed for Wisconsin. They found four demons using an abandoned warehouse as their nest. And the demons soon enough found themselves trapped with three homicidal hunters and an ex-Angel. River was pretty proud of herself for only throwing up once after she slit the first demons throat. She and Sam collected the blood in empty gallon water jugs and left Dean and Cas to burn the bodies when the grim work was done. “So you want to go by the farmers market, pick up some spinach and strawberries blend this shit into a Demon Blood power smoothie?” River asked

“I like it straight.” Sam told her. She tried to smile but her face broke and she pressed her palms into her eyes trying to stop herself from crying. “Hey it’s alright. I got this.” He told her setting the jugs of blood down and wrapping one arm around her.

She nodded, “I know you do.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. 

Sam glanced over his shoulder making sure Cas and Dean were still inside the building. “I want to talk to you about something.”

Dean and Castiel walked out of the dark warehouse a few moments later. River and Sam talked quietly, leaning against the trunk of the Impala. She had her arms wrapped tightly around herself, nodding at whatever Sam was telling her and wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie.

“They alright?” Dean asked Bobby as he walked towards him and his van.

Bobby nodded, “Seems like they’re having a heart to heart. I’d give ‘em a couple more minutes to hug it out.” Dean smirked. “I got a couple ideas where we might find the man of the hour.” He told Dean handing him a stack of newspapers. “These look like omens to you? Cyclones in Tampa, temperature drop in Detroit, wildfires in L.A…”

“What about Detroit?” Dean asked before Bobby could continue. 

“Twenty degree temperature drop, but only in a five block radius of downtown Motown.” Bobby answered sifting through the newspapers to find the particular article. 

“Thats where he is,” Dean said quietly. He looked over at his brother and girlfriend who had indeed ended their conversation with a hug. “We’re wasting daylight. Lets go.”

“Where we headed?” River asked him her voice still thick with emotion from whatever she and Sam had been talking about. 

“Detroit.” Dean answered. 

River nodded, “Detroit of course. I’m gonna ride with Cas and Bobby.”

“What? Why?”

“Cas is driving Bobby nuts with stories of his glory days on the Heavenly battlefield.” River answered. “Or I can have Cas ride with you two if you want?” She said.

“No. We’re good.” Dean told her. 

She stood on her toes wrapping her hands in the soft leather of his jacket and kissed him gently on the lips. Dean smiled down at her running his thumb along her jaw. “I hear Detroit has good pizza too,” She called over her shoulder as she walked towards Bobby’s dinged up black van.

Dean pulled the drivers side door open, still wearing the same smile River left him with. He caught his brothers amused face in his peripheral vision and turned towards him. “What?” He asked the smile dropping from his face.

“Nothing. I don’t get to see you happy very often.” Sam told him. Dean rolled his eyes as he started the car. They drove in silence until the sun disappeared below the horizon. The green highway signs counted down the miles until they would reach Detroit. Sam shifted nervously every time another fifty miles evaporated under the wheels of the Impala. 

“I got a bad feeling about this, Sam.” Dean finally said.

Sam nodded, “I’d be worried if you felt good about any of this.”

“You know what I mean. Detroit. He always said it was gonna be Detroit. Zachariah showed River Detroit and what happens, what might happen after…maybe he knows something we don’t know. “

“I’m sure he knows a butt load more than we do, we just have to hope he doesn’t know about the rings.” Sam wiped his hands on his jeans and took a deep breath. He ran through the speech he had been practicing for the last several hundred miles. River had let him say his piece without arguing he wasn’t sure his brother would be as cooperative. “Hey Dean, I got to talk to you about something.”

“What?” He replied not taking his eyes off the dark road and the taillights of Bobby’s van.

“If things go our way and I triple lindy into the box you know I’m not coming back right?”

“Yeah.” Dean said quietly. “I remember how it works.”

“You need to promise me something.” Sam continued.

“Alright, what?”

“You’ve got to promise not to try to bring me back.”

“What? No! I didn’t agree to that,” Dean shot back angrily. “You’re going to Hell, Sam. You’re gonna be trapped with Lucifer…I’m not fucked up enough to imagine what thats gonna be like for you. There is no god damn way I’m letting you stay down there.”

Sam shook his, “Dean listen to me! It's too risky, you can't go poking around at the cage once its locked.”

“No No no no no way. You can not ask me to do this.”

“I am and you will. I’m sorry Dean but you have to let me go.” Sam said calmly.

Dean shook his head running his hands along the steering wheel. “What am I supposed to do then? You’re my family Sam.”

Sam took a deep breath, “You take River and have a life with her. Pray that she’s patient and dumb enough to stay with you once everything settles down and we aren’t clawing for every inch. Pray that she never realizes what a jerk you really are.” Dean couldn’t help the annoyed smirk that pulled at his lips. “Marry her, god damn it. I should’ve asked Jess to marry me the minute we met. Instead I bought a ring and carried it around for months waiting for the right moment. That moment never came, Dean. Promise that you will live your life.”

They arrived in Detroit a few hours before midnight. Once they pinpointed the center of the temperature fluctuation it was an easy step to find the building where a couple dozen demons were hiding out. “Looks like somethings up in there,” Bobby murmured staring through his binoculars. “They got sentries everywhere.”

Dean shoved his hands in his pocket, “He’s in there. I can feel it.” 

River shuffled on her feet against the biting cold and apprehension shivering up her spine. She leaned into Sam trying to steal some of his body heat and gave Dean a small reassuring smile as he and Bobby walked back into he shadows of the alley they were hiding in. “Go time?” She asked quietly. Dean nodded. Sam stiffened next to her. 

“See ya around kid.” Bobby said taking Sam into a big hug. 

“Yeah see ya around, Bobby.” He replied grasping Bobby by the shoulders before turning to Castiel who stood unsurely to the side. “Take care of them.” Sam said nodding his chin towards the to others.

Castiel’s face fell, “That’s not possible, Sam.”

Sam smiled sadly, “Then just humor me."

“Oh!” Cas replied , “You wanted me to lie. Well, of course. They’ll be fine. Everything will be just fine-“

“Cas, sweetie, quit talking.” River told him patting his arm. “Why don’t we go sit with Bobby for a while? You can finish telling us about the time you slew the demon Charun.” She gave Sam a final hug and kissed him gently on his cheek. “Thank you, Sam. I promise I will take care him.” She said just loud enough for him to hear. She hooked her arm around Cas’s and led him towards Bobby’s van as Dean opened the Impalas trunk and stared down at the jugs of dark red demon blood.

“Could you not watch while I do this?” Sam asked him quietly. 

Dean nodded, “Yeah, theres an all night pawn shop up the street I wanted to check out anyways.” He held his hand out to his brother. Sam grabbed his hand and was surprised when Dean pulled him in for a tight hug. “Be back in twenty.” He said backing away from his brother.

“Where you headed hot stuff?” River asked as he walked towards the front of the alley.

“Goin’ for a walk. Keep an eye on him for me. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared quickly around the corner and out of sight. River only half listened to Castiel’s war story. She watched as Sam disappeared behind the Impala. By the third jug of blood he started pacing the small alley and muttering manically to himself. Even Cas stopped talking and warily watched him. 

“If He Hulks our right now he’s gonna kick our asses into next week.” River said quietly watching as Sam gesticulated wildly at his own shadow. Dean returned from the pawn shop with his wallet lighter and his pocket weighed down by the small box he’d picked up just as Sam finished the fourth and last jug of demon blood.

Sam sloppily wiped at the blood rimming his lips and tossed the empty container aside. “I’m ready. Lets do this.” He growled. His muscles twitched and jumped, his face flushed and he had a hard-on that was getting painful. He rushed past his brother and into the open street. Dean spared one finally look at River before jogging to catch up with his brother. “Hey assholes! I’m here! Wheres my welcome wagon?” Sam yelled at the dark building. Several black eyed faces appeared in the windows and banged through the door. 

Dean smiled and nodded at the wall of demons that had appeared before them. “Hi kids. Is your father home?” The demons surrounded the brothers and pushed them back into the building. 

“Fuck.” River muttered from the shadows. “Cas this isn’t right. None of this is right.”

“I know.” He replied stoically. 

Sam and Dean were pushed up three flights of stairs. The temperature dropping with each step upwards. They were finally directed into a barren room at the end of a long, dark hallway. “Sam, Dean so nice of you to drop by.” Lucifer cordially greeted them. His vessel, Nick, was even further along in decay since the last they had seen him. His eyes were covered in a cloudy white sheen, his face pock marked with open sores. “This a pleasant surprise although I have to admit this seems a bit suicidal on your parts.”

“We didn’t come to fight. I came to offer you the deal of a lifetime.” Sam told him. The demons behind him snickered. Sam closed his eyes and with barely a flex of his fully charged psychic powers killed the Demons. They didn’t even have to time to scream or plead. They simply crumpled to floor mid laugh.

Lucifer whistled in amusement. “Looks like someones been eating all his veggies.”

Dean looked down at the dead bodies now littering the floor and back to his brother. Sam rolled his shoulders before looking the Devil in the eyes. “We get it ok? The train has left the Apocalypse station. We can’t stop it. So we want an out.” Lucifer raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I give you a free ride and when everything is done you let me go, you let us all go. We get to live our lives without Angels or Demons screwing with us.” 

Lucifer shook his head contemplating Sam’s deal. “Sam, Sammy…I know about the rings. I know about your plan to force me back into the box,” He sighed.

Dean tensed, flexing his fists. There’d be no point running or trying to fight. Lucifer could tear them apart with a snap of his fingers. “You know my plan. Doesn’t matter. You want the deal or not?”

“Mano a mano in your head. No magic, no tricks. Me versus you. You win and we go back to the pit. I win and…well I win.” Lucifer smiled. “I like it. I agree to your terms. What do you say Sam?”

“Sam-“ Dean said reaching towards his brother.

Sams jaw tightened at his brothers voice but he wouldn’t turn to look at him. “Yes,” he ground out. Lucifer smiled and for a moment you could see the Angel he used to be. The room filled with a beautiful pearlescent light. Dean shrank away from the light throwing his arm to shield his eyes. The brilliant light illuminated the street outside exposing the three hunters in the dark alley. 

“Balls.” Bobby murmured as the light disappeared.

Sam twitched spastically. His limbs jittered under the layers of flannel and denim, eyes rolled up in the back of his head. Dean blinked trying to clear the black splotches in his eyes. “Sam…Sammy?” He stuttered. His brother didn’t answer as the twitching continued. “Shit,shit,shit…” He muttered reaching into his jacket and grabbing the rings with shaking fingers. He threw the rings towards the nearest wall where they stuck and began chanting the spell Death had taught him. The wall cracked and broke as a swirling vortex opened up behind it. The ground outside trembled, car alarms were set off and dozens of startled pigeons took off from the roof. 

Sam stopped twitching and grasped his head, “Dean…oh I can feel him. Oh god!”

Dean ran to his brother. “Sam, you have to go now! The cage is open!” He grabbed his brothers arm and led him towards the vortex. “Go! Now!” Sam staggered away from his brother and stared at the cold pit of darkness in front of him. He rotated his head slowly relishing the cracks and pops. “Sam?” Dean called over the rushing wind.

Sam turned to face him and smiled. “Sammy’s long gone Dean. I was just messing with you, trying to up the drama a little bit.” Dean shook his head in disbelief as Lucifer muttered the counter spell to close the cage. The wall rebuilt itself before their eyes and the Horseman’s rings reappeared. He pulled the rings off the wall and held them in his hands. “I always told you it would happen in Detroit.” Lucifer said before disappearing.

River grabbed onto Cas’s hand, “Oh god did it work? How do we know it worked?” Castiel shook his head unsurely. The door banged open and Dean staggered out a moment later. “Dean!” she yelled releasing her grip on Castiel and running across the street. Cas grimaced and shook his hand trying to get the feeling back in his limb. Dean stared around the street his normal bright green eyes were dull and dazed. “Dean, baby did it work?” River asked running her hands along his jaw to shift his gaze to her.

He shook his head slightly, eyes filling with unshed tears. His mouth opened and closed several times before he could form words. “Sam…Lucifer is…he’s gone. It didn’t work.” He choked out closing his eyes so he didn’t have to see the look of defeat that rippled across her features. Her hands dropped from his face and she stepped back unsteadily into Castiel and Bobby. They slowly made their way back to their waiting cars. Dean sat heavily behind the wheel of Baby and started the engine not knowing what else to do. An emergency siren blared over the radio; “This is not a test. I repeat this is not a test. A 7.5 seismic event has been reported off the coast of California. A tidal wave of massive proportions is expected to make landfall in less than 15 minutes. Emergency evacuations have begun but the death toll is expected to be in the high six figures…We’ve just had reports of another earthquake in Venezuela and the Adriatic sea-“ River turned the radio off before the next series of terrible events could be reported. Bobby leaned through her open window and shook his head.

“It’s starting.” Castiel grumbled from the back seat. 

“What we do now?” River asked in a tiny voice.

The former Angel shrugged his shoulders. “I suggest we partake of copious amounts of alcohol. You two will probably want to have sex…”

“Always keeping thing on the bright side, Cas.” Dean grumbled. “How do we stop it?”

Castiel laughed, “We don’t. Lucifer will meet Michael on the chosen field. The fight will happen. The battle of Armageddon will begin and your world will end.”

“Where’s the chosen field?” River asked turning to face him. 

“I don’t know.” Cas answered. Bobby pushed himself away from the window and walked back to his van.

“Bobby?” River called getting out of the car. “Where are you going?”

The older man stopped and turned to face her. “To get a drink. I think Cas has the right idea…there was never much hope anyways.” 

Cas and Bobby headed out of the alley in search of the closest bar or liquor store a few minutes later. “Someone has to know where they are...let’s find another Demon nest. One of them will tell us where daddy is once we start lopping off appendages-“ River muttered.

“Chuck.” Dean said suddenly.

“What about Chuck?” River asked.

“He’s a Prophet of God right? He saw when Sam let Lucifer out of the cage maybe…maybe he’s seen where they’re going. Where they’re going to be?”

“Chuck hasn’t answered any of our calls in weeks, Months. I think he’s avoiding us.”

Dean shrugged and pulled his cellphone out of his jacket. “Come on Chuckie. Answer-“ He prayed as the phone range.

“Madam Magda? I knew you’d call back. I felt like we had a real connection during that last call you know before my credit card was denied-“ Chucks wavering nervous voice echoed over the speaker and Dean couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, Chuck it’s Dean.”

“Oh I um…I wasn’t expecting you to call,” Chuck said followed by the sound of shuffling papers. 

“So, who’s Madam Magda?” River asked.

Chuck laughed nervously, “Hello River. Magda’s a close friend. A really close friend-“

“What about you and Becky? You crazy kids aren’t goin’ hot and heavy anymore?” 

Chuck cleared his throat, “No. Me and Becky didn’t work out. I have too much respect for her.”

River snorted. “Well, that makes one of us.” Dean shot her an unamused look. “What? You didn’t hear her fanfiction. Don’t let that socially awkward act fool you; she’s 90 pounds of hardcore kink. Yes sir, Daddy may I, Winchester sandwiches, the whole shebang.”

Dean sighed, “Chuck we didn’t call to discuss your extracurricular activities…Sam said yes to Lucifer.”

They heard Chuck take a deep breath. “I know. I saw it. I’m just writing the pages out now…I really think this book is gonna knock it out of the park. Stephen King can suck it-”

“Did you see where the title fight goes down?” Dean asked.

The sound of more shuffling papers echoed over Dean’s phone before Chuck answered. “The Angels are keeping it very hush- hush. Top secret…”

“Damn it,” River hissed.

“But I saw it anyways,” Chuck said laughing nervously again. “Perks of being a Prophet I guess.” River and Dean both leaned in towards the phone waiting for Chuck to continue. “Tomorrow High Noon at a place called Stull Cemetery.”

“Ok, well at least we got a name.” River mumbled.

Dean shook his head, "No, wait I know that place. It’s an old cowboy cemetery outside of Lawrence. Why Lawerence?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe it has to end where it all began.” Chuck answered.

“Chuck, do you know how we derail this? Anything?” River asked him.

“Besides the rings? No. I wish I did. But I haven’t seen it yet.” 

Dean sat back heavily in his seat. “Yeah, well thanks Chuck. Good luck with Madam Magda.”

Chuck laughed, “Good luck with saving the world.”

Dean ended the call and tucked the phone next to the small box in his jacket pocket and scrubbed his hands down his face. “Fucking Kansas,” he muttered. 

“I’ve never been to Kansas.” River said as she kicked her shoes off next to him, then took her hoodie off and tossed it in the backseat.

“You know we’re probably not coming back from this?” Dean told her quietly. 

“Always such the optimist.” She said pulling her Black Sabbath shirt over her head. 

“What are you doing?” Dean asked as she popped the buttons on her jeans and shimmied out of those as well.

She looked across the seat at him with an amused smile. “Last night on Earth? One last good memory to relive if we die again...And it’s not like it’s gonna take us 14 hours to drive to Lawerence,” She leaned forward reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra and slid it half way down her arms, “Unless there’s something or someone else you’d rather be doing?”

“No. I am exactly... well almost exactly what I want to be doing.” He said smiling suggestively at her. She returned the smile and dropped her bra on the floorboard with the rest of her clothes waiting as Dean took his own jacket off, carefully folded it and tucked it on the seat behind him. River spread her legs enticingly letting one hand drift slowly between her breasts. 

“Are those ‘My Little Pony’ underwear?” Dean taunted. 

She blushed and crossed her arms over her naked chest, “I figured crotchless panties weren’t really suitable for the Apocalypse. I can put my clothes back on if you want but it would be a damn shame because the end of the world has me all kinds of hot and bothered.” 

Dean pulled his shirt off and tossed it in a wadded ball at his feet. “Take ‘em off,” He told her. She ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips as she lifted her hips to slide the ridiculously bright pink underwear off. He grabbed her by one ankle pulling her towards him so she slid to her back on the long black vinyl seat, pushing her thighs apart with his other hand as he settled his body on top of her. She pulled at him suddenly desperate to feel him as close as possible knowing this would probably be the last time. Their lips met with burning need, bodies pushing, pulling, grinding against each other.

Her hands left a fiery trail down his back as she pushed his jeans off his hips. “Need you.” She murmured against his neck as Dean felt her hand guide his cock towards her hot center. He caught her moan in another bruising kiss as he pushed inside her. Their bodies pressed tightly together, lips and hands memorizing the way the other tasted and felt. Her fingernails dug into his back, begging him to go deeper, harder with every thrust of his hips. She came undone arching her body into his as she rode out her climax. Her hands relaxed leaving behind half-moon indents and red scratches as she melted into post-orgasm high, running her fingers through his hair chanting “I love you, I love you, I love you...” trying to fit in a lifetimes worth of the sentiment while he chased his own finish. He buried his face in her neck with a groan of pleasure, the rhythm of hips faltering with his orgasm grunting “Love you too” as he collapsed on top of her. Dean reluctantly dragged himself out from between her warm thighs after several long moments of laying tangled silently together.

“Should we try and track down Bobby and Cas?” He asked pulling his jeans on.

River shrugged her shoulders. “They’ll be back soon,” she replied slipping her underwear back up her legs. She felt around on the dark floorboards until she found her discarded bra and put it back on. She stopped dressing as a thought percolated, “We need Holy oil.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow as his arms slid through the sleeves of his jacket and he patted the pocket making sure everything was still there. “Maybe Bobby knows a guy...” He waited until she fully dressed before opening the car door and stepping out into the cold night air. They did a quick inventory of their weapons; nothing had magically appeared that would help them win the coming fight. “Three dozen salt shells, couple of clips of silver bullets, gallon of holy water-“ Dean listed off. 

“So nothing that can even put a dent in an Archangel.” River sighed as the door on Bobby’s van slid open and he and Cas stepped out. “When did you two get back?” River called as they walked towards them.

“A while ago,” Bobby answered tucking his hands in his jean pockets, “Figured we’d wait ‘till the car stopped rockin’.” River’s cheeks flushed and she turned back towards the trunk. “You two plannin’ something?” Bobby said to Dean as he River shared a silent look. “What are you two up to?” 

“I’m going to go talk to Sam.” Dean told him closing the trunk.

“Dean, you won’t be able to reach him. Lucifer’s strength will grow by the minute while he’s in possession of his true vessel,” Castiel said stepping forward.

“Then we’ve already lost and I have nothing left to lose. He’s my brother.” 

Castiel sighed, “I want you to understand the only thing you will witness on that battlefield is Michael killing your brother.”

“Well, then I’m not gonna let him die alone.” Dean said quietly. He turned towards River, “You still with me?” 

She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “Until the very end,” she smiled bringing his fingertips to her lips.

Dean rolled his eyes and muttered “Nerd” before turning and climbing back into the Impala. 

River leaned against the rear bumper and raised her eyebrows in a silent challenge to Bobby and Cas. “We need Holy Oil, Papa Bear. The more the better.”

Bobby readjusted his snug baseball cap and stared up at the stars breaking through the hazy layer of smog that perpetually covered the city of Detroit. “I might know a guy,” he answered scratching his chin. 

Lucifer showed up early. Not to get the jump on his big brother but to enjoy the fresh air and sounds of the birds and buzzing insects; the sounds of life in this forgotten acreage of death. So unlike Hell and its never ending cacophony of screams and thunder storms. A flutter of wings signaled his brothers arrival frightening a flock of Starlings. The brothers watched the birds soar following the air currents. “Hello brother,” he said quietly laying eyes on his older brother for the first time in millennia.

Michael smiled sadly, “Hello Lucifer. It’s been too long.”

River and Dean spent the drive to Kansas listening to their favorite music and talking about all the places they’d never been and probably never would go. “Gabriel could’ve zapped you where ever you wanted to go. Why didn’t you just have him take you to Roswell?” Dean asked looking over at her. 

She sat against the passenger door, legs stretched across the seat, feet resting on Deans lap and shrugged. “I guess I was saving it.”

“For what?”

She looked out the window briefly at the flat landscape rolling by. “For someone special. For family. For us.” He watched as a series of emotions drifted over her features before she finally settled on a Poker smile. “Anyways, I figured you probably wouldn’t want to check out Budapest or Ibiza ‘cause we’d have to fly there. Figured we’d just stick to places we can drive to.”

“You went to Ibiza?” Dean asked unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

River laughed, “Just for a few hours. Gabe wanted to check out this Foam and Bubble rave.“ Her laughter dissolved into a sad smile, “I think he just took me to all those crazy places because I’d never been. His favorite thing to do was to hang out in one of his hideaways , break out the Snuggies and have an 80’s movie marathon. Honestly that was my favorite thing to do too; watch Molly Ringwald and forget the world was going to Hell…but I still want to go to Roswell."

“Well, I’ve been to Roswell. Dad had a job there when I was 13. The place is a tourist trap.” He grumbled. John had dropped him and his brother at the local roach motel and chased a Tlahuelpuchi, a ship shifting, blood sucking Native American witch while they spent a long weekend exploring the town.

“I like tourist traps,” she countered as the car rolled past a weather beaten metallic sign telling them Stull Cemetery was less than a mile away. Dean pulled the car over just past the sign and watched through the rearview window as Bobby’s black van parked behind him. Castiel and the older hunter climbed out of the van and waited in the late morning sun. River closed her eyes briefly a small smile forming at the corner of her lips as she sent a silent prayer to her dead friend. Before sliding across the seat and cupping Dean’s face in her hands. “I love you Dean Winchester; you’re the best bad decision I’ve ever made,” she murmured against his lips. They kissed hard knowing this was the probably the last time they’d get the chance on this side of the Pearly gates. She climbed out of the car without saying goodbye and walked to Bobby and Cas. Castiel held a small duffle bag out to her and she slung it across her back before the three disappeared into the overgrown tangle of weeds and dead trees. Dean sat alone in his car for another ten minutes, gathering his thoughts and giving them time to circle to the back of the cemetery. 

He chose Def Leppard’s ‘Rock of Ages’ to make his grand entrance knowing it was one of Sam’s least favorite songs. His brothers stood toe to toe in the center of the Old graveyard. A pang of anger and regret wrenched through his chest at the sight of his younger brothers, none of them had ever asked for this, they didn’t deserve this fate, no one did. “Excuse me gentleman. Hope I’m not interrupting.” He called genially stepping out of his car like he didn’t have a care in the world. Michael and Lucifer stared at him with nothing but contempt. There wasn’t even a shadow of his brother left behind the cold hazel eyes.

Lucifer smiled wryly, “Dean this is whole new mountain of stupid. Even for you.”

“We need to talk.” Dean continued leaning back on the hood of Baby and stared at Lucifer.

“You are no longer the vessel Dean. You have no right to be here.” Michael cut in.

“Adam if you’re in there I am so sorry.” Dean told him.

Michael smirked through Adam’s face, “Adam isn’t home right now.”

“Well, then you’re next on my list buttercup. But for now I want five minutes with Sam.”

“You pathetic worm. You aren’t a part of this story.” Michael growled stalking closer to Dean, his fists balled in rage, hateful energy rolling off him in waves. 

“Hey Ass-butt!” Castiel’s gravelly voice caused both Archangels to turn towards him. In the next second Castiel sent a flaming bottle towards Michael. The glass shattered spraying God’s first born in a shower of burning Holy Oil. Michael erupted in flames, his screams of pain threatening to burst the humans eardrums. Then he was gone, nothing remained but a few whips of smoke.

“Ass-butt?" Dean yelled incredulously.

Castiel shrugged his shoulders in response. River clapped him on the arm, "Good job Cassie. That was a great first attempt at swearing.”

Castiel gave her a half hearted smile and looked to Dean. “He’ll be back and upset. But you got your five minutes.” Lucifer stood still staring at the empty space where his brother should have been. Sam’s deep hazel eyes swept over Castiel.

“Castiel. Did you just molotov my brother with Holy Oil?” Lucifer asked calmly. Cas shifted uncomfortably on his feet, nervously staring down the Morning Star.

“He sure as shit did asshat.” River yelled back smiling like a maniac. “Told you it’d work like a fucking charm!” She called to Dean.

Lucifer sneered. “No one fucks with Michael but me,” he said raising his hand. Castiel took a nervous step back and exploded into a gory red mess when Lucifer snapped his fingers. River spluttered in disgusted shock wiping chunks of Castiel off her face.

Dean’s heart ratcheted around his chest and he swallowed twice trying to find his voice. “Sam-Sammy if you can hear me-“ 

Lucifer moved towards him shaking his head, “I tried to be nice. For Sammy’s sake,” he grabbed Deans jacket leaning down so their noses almost touched, “But you are such a pain in my ass.” He tossed Dean ten feet back onto the hood of Baby. His head cracked the windshield and he lay their dazed. 

“Son of a bitch!” River screamed. She was behind Lucifer, the Demon knife clutched in one hand and her shotgun in the other before her brain had caught up to her feet running towards Dean. She stabbed the knife through Sam’s jacket and didn’t stop until she felt the soft pop of flesh as the blade sunk in deep. Lucifer grunted turning his dark eyes down to her as she followed with a blast from her shotgun to his midsection . He didn’t make a sound this time as he reached one of Sam’s long arms behind and pulled the Demon Blade out of his back and swatted the shotgun of her hands. Dean dizzily pushed himself up to his elbows, shaking fragments of glass from his hair. Bobby fired his 9mm hitting Lucifer in the shoulder. The Devil glared down at the holes in his clothing, he had really liked Sam’s jacket. River stumbled backwards towards Bobby as the other hunter re-aimed. They had more Holy Oil in the bag at Bobby’s feet if they could just get to it. Their eyes briefly met then Bobby’s head was wrenched 180 degrees in the wrong direction. The popping of his cervical vertebrae was drowned out by River’s horrified scream. She collapsed to her knees still screaming. 

“NO!” Dean yelled sliding unsteadily to the ground as Lucifer strode towards River. He stood in front of her, looking down through wisps of Sam’s shaggy hair. “River run!” He screamed.

She took shuddering breaths and looked up at the big man in front of her, “Sa-Sam?” 

“No.” Lucifer answered tangling one hand in her and pulling her to her feet. “Tell me Dean,” he said yanking back on River’s hair causing her to yelp in pain, “did you really think this would work?”

“Don’t-“ Dean plead with the Devil. Lucifer smiled, his face hard and cold, as he sliced the Demon Knife across her throat. River’s eyes bugged wide in surprise, hands clutching at the wound as hot blood flowed between her fingers and down the front of her shirt. She tried speaking but only a wet gurgling sound escaped her bloodied lips. Lucifer let go of her hair and she sunk slowly to her knees, her hands still weakly grasping at the mortal wound in her throat. Everything tingled painfully, the blood spurting from her neck grew sluggish as her heart failed. The last thing she saw was Dean before blackness engulfed her. 

The next moment she found herself queued up in what looked like the worlds most organized amusement park line. Countless people stretching in front of her in one giant straight line. She pinched her arm willing herself to wake up. A low din of voices in every imaginable language bubbled up from the souls in front of her. She turned around looking for the exit when two dozen confused people appeared in line behind her. “Fuck this,” she muttered trying to dip under the red velvet rope keeping the queue in line.

A smiling woman no older than she was appeared in front of her. “Please stay in line, the Virtues will be with you shortly.” The velvet rope sent a sharp jolt of pain through her hands and River dropped it cursing loudly.

“What the shit is this? Is this Heaven?” The Angel smiled brightly and nodded her head. “Send me back now!” River yelled at the infuriating, emotionless Angel.

“Please stay in line. The Virtues will be with you shortly.” The other woman repeated her smile never faltering. River growled in frustration and spun around staring at the bewildered faces piling up behind her. Every dozen feet on the right side of the rope more smiling Angels appeared.

“Ladies and Gentleman, we apologize for the line but due to the Apocalypse the wait times are longer than expected.” The Angels spoke as one to the rapidly expanding crowd. 

“Balls!” River heard Bobby’s gruff voice through the restless babel. She stood on her toes searching over the heads in front of her and saw the brim of his dirty baseball cap fifty bodies up, he was leaning as far over the red rope as he could without touching it, yelling at his own smiling Angel. “Bobby! Papa Bear!” She called out. “Son of a bitch!” she cursed again as her voice was drown out by the fanatically singing end-times cult that popped up behind her. Avoiding the red ropes of zapping pain she pushed forward, elbowing her way through the throng of souls. 

“Please no line jumping. The Virtues will be with you shortly.” An Angel politely told River as she shoved past a bus load of Harikrishnas that had died when a freak tornado touched down in the center of Sydney, Australia.. 

“Piss off Bartelby.” River snapped. She was a dozen people away from Bobby when a burning fish hook of pain ignited in the middle of her forehead. A hard jerk came from the other end of the hook and the red velvet ropes and Angels in identical monotone grey suits were gone. She was back in the deserted cemetery staring up at Castiel’s bright blue eyes. “Cas?” she whispered one shaking hand going to her throat. “I-I…what? You exploded…”

Castiel pulled her to her feet. “Everything is as it should be.” He said quietly.

River shook her head, “No. The Virtues will be with us shortly.” Her brain rambled, visions of Heaven and the Present meshing together as she tried to make sense of what had just happened to her. “ …Bobby and Dean. Dean! Where are they?”

“I’m here sweetheart.” She spun around to find Dean helping a dazed and also newly resurrected Bobby to his feet. She ran to them pulling them into a fierce hug for several long seconds. Dean buried his face in her hair and kissed her forehead. No sign of what Lucifer had done to any of them remained on their bodies after Castiel’s healing touch. 

“What happened? I was dead… There was a line to get into Heaven. Lucifer killed me….Where are they? Who won?“ River vomited questions as the severity of what had happened sunk in.

Dean left Bobby when he sure the older man wouldn’t collapse back to the ground in shock. “We did.” Dean took a deep breath willing down the pain for a little while longer. “Sam got control. He uh…he threw himself and Michael into the Pit. It’s over-“ He finished squeezing his eyes shut. River paled, suddenly dizzy and looked across the cemetery to a circular patch of trampled earth.

“Oh my god,” she murmured. “How are we alive? Cas I was dead! Again! Did you get your Angel mojo back?” 

He smiled and nodded, “Yes I did. I believe I have much, much more mojo than I did before.”

“Are you God?” she asked in a hushed tone. 

“That is very humbling but no. Although I do believe He brought me back.” Castiel’s blue eyes lit with pride and he looked Heavenward. “I think I’m going to stretch my wings,” He said before kicking up a cloud of dust as he disappeared. River wandered away her hand once again feeling her throat. The burning pain of the knife and the freezing touch of Lucifer’s hand still fresh, shadowed only by the haze of being resurrected again. A glint of shiny metal half hidden in the dead grass caught her eyes. The Horseman’s rings were cold and heavy in her hand as she handed them back to Dean. He didn’t want to touch them or think about what they represented as he dropped them into his pocket next to the small black box that had also made it unscathed from Lucifer’s assault. 

Bobby had had more than enough of his share of fighting and dying to last quite a while and after a brief farewell left for home. As if she’d only been trying to keep it together in front of Bobby, River finally broke down once the taillights of his van disappeared. Crying not only for Sam but for everyone else they’d lost since the beginning. Dean didn’t know what else to do besides hold her until the worst of it was over and she could walk to the car. She cried for a long time, silently wiping tears off her face as Dean drove away from Stull Cemetery. Night finally fell and River drifted into an uneasy sleep leaning against the passenger door, tears falling even as she slept. Dean looked across at her, remembering what Sam had told him and second-guessing whether he should go through with his stupid half-cocked plan when Castiel reappeared in the seat between him and River. “Son of a bitch!” He gulped in surprise glaring at Castiel as River murmured something and shifted in her sleep, “You’re gonna wake her up.”

Castiel brushed his fingers gently across her forehead and she relaxed against the door. “She’ll sleep peacefully….”

Dean rolled his eyes, “So what are you going to do now?”

“I’m going home.”

“Heaven?”

“Yes. It must be complete anarchy up there. With Michael in the cage, Raphael will be lost. He’s never had to truly lead.”

“What your gonna upstairs and be the new Sheriff in town?” Dean asked. 

Castiel nodded, “If my father wills it.”

Dean laughed, “So Dad gives you a big shiny new set of wings to make up for missing Christmas and you’re his good little servant again?”

Cas sighed, “You’re angry.”

“No. Nah why would I be?” He shrugged. “Of course I’m angry. That son of a bitch is the reason my whole life has been one pile of dog shit after another and no matter which direction I go I always end up steppin’ in it.”

“Maybe your path is clear now Dean.” Castiel replied. “God helped us. Maybe more than any of us will ever know. I don’t know if He will ever come home but I feel that I am needed in Heaven. That this is my purpose.”

“Yeah, alright Yoda.” He huffed, “What about my purpose, huh? What do I get out of all of this? My brother is in Hell…”

“You got what you desired, Dean. No Paradise. No Hell. Just more of the same, here and now. How you choose to live from now on is up to you.” Castiel replied. 

Dean ground his jaw tensely. “I made a promise to Sam. I made a promise to her. I plan to start keepin’ my promises.” He reached into his pocket and pulled the small box out. “I got somewhere to be before dawn. Can you give us a lift before you return to the Forbidden Zone?”

The bottle of Japanese Whiskey and the vintage Led Zeppelin shirt River had got him for his birthday where still safely tucked in the glovebox. He changed quietly, grabbed the folded blankets from the backseat and managed to get out the car with only a minimal of screeching door hinges. “Need to oil that damn thing,” Dean thought to himself as River stirred in her sleep again. He slipped back into the car a few minutes later and gave himself another pep talk before waking her up. “Time to wake up, Princess. We’re here.” He said gently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 

She sat up stiffly, dazed from Angelic induced sleep and a cloud of grief. “Dean, what-?” She sat up straighter looking through the windows at the dark flat landscape outside of the car. She turned in her seat eyes suddenly searching the backseat only to find it empty. “Sam-“ she started, her lips trembling again eyes threatening to spill more tears.

“Hey. No more crying sweetheart.” Dean murmured kissing her gently. 

She pushed her hair out of her face and looked back to the darkness outside. “Where the fuck are we? Can we just find a hole somewhere and get drunk?”

Dean smiled, “I’m trying to do a thing here. Could you just trust me?” She wiped her face again and nodded. “Alright. Well, get outta the car and come sit with me for a while.” She complied, slowly getting out of the warm car and into the chilly night air. Dean had laid one of their flannel blankets on the hood and had another draped over his arm ready to cover them both once she climbed onto the hood. She leaned into his chest, hand running along the soft, well worn shirt.

“I knew this shirt would look good on you.” She murmured. 

He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “Drink with me.” He said twisting the cap off the whiskey and taking a deep pull from the bottle. He groaned, “God damn, baby girl, you got good taste.”

She took a sip saying, “The guy behind the counter said it was the best bottle he had. Cost a lot of lap dances.” Dean laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest where River laid her head listening to his heartbeat.“What time is it?” She asked.

“Almost dawn,” he answered. They sat quietly holding each other watching as the sky slowly lightened. The inky black night being replaced by the pale pinks and oranges of the rising sun. It took several minutes of the brightening landscape for River to realize where Dean had taken her. She sat up, fresh tears falling as she stared out at the Grand Canyon. The fresh light bounced off purples, reds, and browns of the giant opening in the Earth. Colors so bright and vivid no painting or photograph would every be able to truly replicate the amazing violent beauty of nature.

“Thank you,” she said turning back to Dean. He smiled nervously, a tinge of nervous pink flaring across his cheeks as he pulled a small black box from his jacket pocket.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry and took another sip of whiskey. “I told you when I imagine myself happy I see you. When I dream of having a life and a future I see you.” His fingers trembled and he cursed under his breath fumbling with the lid on the tiny box.

“Dean-“ River canted her head, eyes darting between the box and Dean’s forest green eyes.

“This is our chance to have that. A future and a life...” The antique sapphire ring Dean picked out shone brilliantly in the early morning light. The deep blue shifting and changing in the sunlight. The bright white gold flower-esque band was dotted with small sparkling diamonds. “Will you marry me?” River’s mouth dropped open in a silent ‘oh’. She took a long drink of the forgotten whiskey and wiped her mouth with a shaking hand. Dean shifted nervously next to her. “The ring...its uhm I thought you’d want something a little different and I had Cas check it for any bad hoodoo. It’s all clear. No curses or Horcruxes...” Dean rambled as River took the ring out and held it disbelieving in front of her eyes. She slipped it onto her left ring finger and stared at it for several long seconds. “I had to guess the size.” He mumbled rubbing his hand over the back of neck. Was it hot? He suddenly felt hot. Why wasn’t she talking? Cas must’ve broke her with Vulcan mind meld nap in the car.. 

“Did you say you had Castiel the newly-reminted-Angel of the Lord check it for Horcruxes?” she asked eyes not leaving the ring.

“Yeah. You know…can’t be too careful with estate jewelry picked up at an all night pawn shop on the eve of the Apocalypse.”

“You’re such a nerd.” She muttered finally prying her eyes away from the ring fit for a princess and not a bitchy f-bomb dropping hunter and stared at Dean’s tense, nervous face. She’d watched him stand his ground in front of countless monsters and never before looked this on edge. “Yes.” River said quietly.

“What?” Dean asked.

“I said ‘Yes’.”


End file.
